


Running Out

by Jellyneau



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 51,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyneau/pseuds/Jellyneau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. John Smith is a brilliant scientist ahead of his time and a leader in his field. Sadly, being a genius isn’t going to save him from his fate. Time is running out. What he doesn’t know is that he is about to meet the one person who might have the power to save him. Rose Tyler.  AU - Ten/Rose</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic that started out from a nice little prompt and is slowly morphing into an epic story. Why can’t I just enjoy little endeavors? Thanks to my brilliant helpful beta friend, TenRoseForever who has been helping me negotiate my way through the world of non-violent fic! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Here’s the prompt from Tumblr: http://usa-government.tumblr.com/ -   
> "My friends dared me to go on this rollercoaster but now that we’re at the top it looks way too scary and hello hot person sitting next to me (careful i might puke)” au

### Running Out : Chapter 1 - Rose

“God, Rose… take something else for a change. Aren’t you sick of vanilla? Blimey… I’m sick of just _watching_ you eat vanilla again,” Shareen nagged, swiping her tongue across her cotton candy flavoured cone.

“I _like_ vanilla, Shareen,” Rose said, passing her £1.60 over to the young man behind the counter and retrieving her plain treat. “It’s simple and reliable… and delicious. You can never go wrong with vanilla,” she pointed out.

Shareen sighed. “How can someone so young be so dull,” she criticized, taking another lick of her confection as they began walking through the fairground again.

The day so far had been pleasant enough even though Rose hadn’t initially been thrilled with Shareen’s plan of visiting Gallifrey Fun Park. It wasn’t that she didn’t necessarily want to be there, but the cost of the day was going to make the rest of this month pretty meager socially and as far as she was concerned, if you’d seen one fairground you’d seen them all. Oh well… it was something different, and as much as she hated to admit it... especially to Shareen, who seemed to be making a point of nagging her about it… she _was_ getting pretty stuck in her pedantic existence lately. 

A little Shareen-like voice in her head actually cheered at her reluctant admission of that fact. In reality, there was nothing ‘lately’ about her predictable existence. It seemed the last year of her life had been just that. Predictable, boring, calculated, careful, and… did she already list boring? 

“Hey, Rose… that bloke is starin’ at you,” Shareen whispered, pulling her from her thoughts. Looking up, Rose took in the decent looking blonde bloke Shareen was referring to. He was standing beside his mates at a water gun game and was definitely eying her. Before she realized what she was doing, she’d tossed the bloke a flirty smile...

...and immediately chastised herself. What was she doing? She had a boyfriend, for heaven’s sake. Clearing her throat, she looked pointedly in the opposite direction. “Yeah… not my type, really,” she drawled, trying to sound bored. 

Shareen sighed. “An’ you’re tellin’ me that Mickey _is_? Really, Rose. You an’ I both know you need someone more… more… well, just… more,” her friend said decidedly.

Irritation creeped through her. “Mickey’s a decent bloke, Shareen. We’ve been best mates forever and I care about him,” she justified.

“Yeah, well… I care about my brother, but that doesn’t mean I’d date him,” her friend pointed out.

As much as Rose hated to admit it, Shareen did have a point. And in honesty… reliable, familiar and… dare she think it?... _brotherly_... had sort of been why she’d finally given in and agreed to date Mickey in the first place. She’d had a particularly bad experience with a bloke she’d fell for by the name of Jimmy. He’d swept her off her feet with promises of excitement and adventure, but in reality it ended up being all about control, jealousy, and finally, abuse. Rose had managed to get herself out from under his thumb about a year back, but it had left her understandably cautious. 

That was when she’d started dating Mickey. Safe, predictable Mickey. He’d been a big support through all the rubbish with Jimmy, and he cared about her. He’d do anything for her and she’d needed that at the time. 

Now, though… she hated to admit it… but now she knew it had been a mistake getting with him in the first place. He was a good bloke and a good friend… but that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was a good friend. That was it. Try as she might, she was finding it impossible to make herself feel more than that for him. It was hard to break it off now though. He knew her better than anyone else in the world, and he was a dependable, caring bloke. It would break his heart and she just couldn’t bring herself to be responsible for that.

And then there was her Mum. The bloody sun rose and set on Mickey’s arse, as far as she was concerned. Her could do no wrong. The repercussions of breaking up with him went far beyond her own guilt… they would involve her mother’s sanity as well.

At a loss as to how to explain any of this to Shareen, however, she merely grunted at her friend’s comment about her obviously fraternal feelings for the man she’d professed to feel more for.

Maybe she just needed to try harder, she considered. Everyone (except Shareen) kept going on about how _perfect_ he was for her, after all. 

But if Mickey was so perfect for her… why was he so… not? Why didn’t she feel more for him? And it wasn’t like she hadn’t been attempting to muster up more feelings for him already. Try as she might, all she could manage so far was brotherly affection for him. What was worse... her relationship status seemed to be a symbol for her entire existence at the moment. Her whole life… her job a Henriks, her boyfriend, her day to day existence… it was quite simply… unfulfilling and just… okay. That thought saddened her. Was that going to be her life? 

For a fleeting moment she imagined standing before her tombstone reading it’s chiselled summary, _Here lies Rose Tyler… she could’ve done more with her life._

Sighing audibly, she felt her mood slip deeper into gloom. She was in a real rut. A decade long rut. She could no longer deny it. 

Admitting that fact did not mean, however, that she particularly enjoyed having the banality of her life pointed out to her on a moment by moment basis and the fact that Shareen’s voice continued to drone on about her own boring existence was beginning to grate on her. Grudgingly, Rose continued trudging along beside the female embodiment of her own conscience while at the same time trying to tune her out. Their cones were now gone, her feet hurt, and she was developing a headache. As if in empathy, clouds began rolling over them to shroud the sun’s attempt to cheer her. It seemed even mother nature was tired of Shareen’s nagging. 

“I know you have it in you to... you know… really _live_ ,” her friend lectured as they neared the ‘Death by Fear Coaster’. “I saw it clear as day when you were with Jimmy. Rachel even mentioned when I saw her and Jenna last… how you were such a Nervous Nelly ‘bout everythin’,” she’d picked. 

Rose squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance. “Shareen…” she warned.

“Let’s face it, Rose, “ Shareen continued, unabated, “even my Nan is more adventurous than you. Hell… my dead Gramps _still_ has more life in ‘im than you!” she baited.

That was it. “Look,” Rose rounded on her friend defensively, “I take plenty of chances… I’ve got loads of adventure in me! Just cause I don’t party every weekend and I’m not dating a bloody celebrity DJ like you… that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to take chances!” she almost shouted.

“Yeah? Then prove it,” Shareen retorted. “Do something impulsive! I dare you!”

“Fine! I will!” Rose blustered back. Spinning on her heel, she looked around her and spotted the coaster. Shooting Shareen a triumphant look, she stalked toward the queue and plonked herself in line. How DARE she! She had _plenty_ of adventure in her. Shareen made it sound like she was some sort of recluse write-off! Well… she’d show _her_. At least a hundred brilliant retorts and angry blustering thoughts swirled in her head as she fumed silently in line. Her _dead Gramps!_ REALLY?!

Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly found herself one back from the front of the queue. The coaster was apparently full now, so she and the rest of the line up stilled as the entry gate was closed and the coaster began easing away from the platform to ascend up the first… oh my.... that was quite a climb, wasn’t it?

Rose watched as the cars inched slowly up the incredibly steep metal hill. God… how high _was_ that, anyway? Rose swallowed thickly, suddenly very aware of her current situation. She was never really excited to take part in park rides, but could be talked into the odd one. She’d always drawn the line at anything involving heights, though… especially rollar coasters. As a kid, she’d heard a story of two people being killed after one had derailed in a terrible accident at an indoor coaster in Canada. After that she’d been quite careful to avoid finding herself on one.

Now, watching the caterpillar like train reach the top of the first climb, she felt her hands grow clammy. An insistent thought instantly told her this was a bad idea. 

_No! Do NOT talk yourself out of this!_ she admonished herself. Despite her fear, she knew this was a pivotal moment. She could do this. She was going to brave this out. 

The first loud screams of the train’s passengers reached her ears making her stomach clench. Once again her brain decided to inform her what a very bad idea this was. 

Looking back behind her as nonchalantly as she could, she tried to see if Shareen was watching. Finding her in the crowd gathered to watch friends and relatives plunge to their deaths, she couldn’t help but once again find her ire rising. Shareen’s arms were crossed and she looked smug. She knew Rose hated heights and she obviously was just _waiting_ for her to turn back.

Well fuck that. 

Turning purposefully to face forward, Rose crossed her own arms in determination. To hell with Shareen. To hell with _all_ of them.

She wasn’t sure how long it was… it didn’t feel long… before the coaster slid back into it’s resting place before them. Rose watched the throngs of people exiting the ride, many of whom looked decidedly green. Some were smiling though. She’d focus on them. Yeah.

The attendant opened the gate for the bloke in front of her, ushering him forward. Rose gulped. This was it.

She was admitted past the gate and began heading to the middle of the coaster. “Sorry, Miss. We fill up the coaster from the front to the back,” the young man informed her. “This way,” he smiled, gesturing for her toward the first car. 

Oh my god. The first car. 

Giving him a weak smile in return, she reluctantly followed his direction and made her way to climb into the royal blue coloured car beside the bloke who’d been standing in front of her in the queue. 

Immediately she closed her eyes in an effort to collect herself. It was a ride. It was perfectly safe. Thousands of people had ridden it before her, right? They’d all lived. There had never been a news breaking story about this particular coaster having flung it’s passengers to their gruesome deaths. At least not yet. Not yet. Oh god.

Eyes still closed, she felt the metal bar come down to press against her thighs. Anxiety flew through her. This was a bad idea. A very very bad idea.

“You okay?” a man’s tenor voice asked from beside her. 

Opening her eyes, she found a tousle haired, brown eyed bloke looking at her with concern. A really good looking one. Great. This was just _great_. Not only was she about to die...or at least barf… but she was going to do it beside (or _on_ ) a gorgeous stranger. 

Fan-bloody-tastic.


	2. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again my dear TenRoseForever helped me with ideas for this portion of the story.... because she'd brilliant! Any mistakes or poor turns of phrase, though, are completely mine, as I've fiddled endlessly with this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

### Running Out : Chapter 2 - Catalyst

“You okay?” a man’s tenor voice asked from beside her.

Opening her eyes, she found a tousle haired, brown eyed bloke looking at her with concern. A really good looking one. Great. 

“Yeah, jus’... I’m a bit nervous,” she said, aware that what she’d said was a massive understatement, but not wanting to sound like an idiot for having decided to do something she was obviously terrified of doing.

“Oh. Well… it’s all very safe,” he assured her. “Best track record for safety in the UK, this park has. I checked,” he shared. 

The tight knot in her stomach loosened the tiniest bit with his assurances. “Thanks. I, er… it was a dare, actually. My mate… she said I wasn’t adventurous…” she trailed off. Why was she suddenly sharing her life story with this stranger? True, he was a bit fit and oddly attractive in his pinstriped suit… who wore a suit to the amusement park?...but that didn’t justify her sudden candidness.

“Ah,” he nodded. “The ol’ double dare. Well… good for you for facing your fears,” he smiled. “My cousin Jack… he’s still back on the ground. Not nearly as adventurous as you are,” he shared. 

On the ground? Oh my god… they were already beginning the climb up to the first drop. Wanting to, but unable to shut her eyes, Rose watched with rising anxiety as they ascended higher and higher. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the bar pinning her in. Ooooooh, God… what the hell had she been thinking?!

“Take a deep breath,” the man beside her suggested. She did. It didn’t help. 

Suddenly, they reached the top and much to Rose’s complete terror, their car rounded it and tilted toward the fairground below. With her unobstructed view, the ground looked to be miles away. “Oh my god,” she squeaked, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as the cars began chasing each other down the treacherous drop. 

Rose’s stomach jumped up into her throat and she was sure her bladder had released. A scream tore through her as the wind whipped her face and pushed her up against the back of the seat she was trapped in. She was going to die. This was it. She was only 21 years old. She’d never travelled. She’d never gotten her A-levels. She hadn’t even told her Mum she loved her this morning. And now it was all over.

A warm hand covered hers as she felt her stomach bottom out, dipping deeply into newly found gravity as the coaster reached the bottom and began ascending again to the next height.

The hand over hers tightened as another scream escaped her with the next drop. Part of her wanted to grab the hand tightly, but she was completely unable to let go of the metal bar in front of her. Her fingers had fused to it.

Repeated screams and loud curses issued from her as the ride progressed through loop-de-loops and decreasingly intense drops. Finally, after hours of this torture she felt the coaster slow. To her immense surprise and pleasure, they’d made it out alive. 

“You can open your eyes now. We made it,” a warm voice said gently as the reassuring hand covering hers withdrew. Doing as he suggested, she found the man she sat beside studying her. “You okay?”

Nodding, she did her best to give him a smile back. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it likely looked more like a grimace. 

With a hiss, the bar that had been holding them in this death trap released them and Rose let out an audible relieved breath. Turning shakily, she anchored herself by holding on to the side of the coaster car and climbed out, doing her best to stay upright once she did. Behind her, the bloke in the pinstriped suit emerged as well. Moving to give him more space to exit the coaster, she lost her balance. A squeak of alarm flew from her, but a strong arm caught her on her way down, saving her from her own clumsiness. “Whoa!” he cried, pulling her back to standing.

Clutching him shamelessly, she stood there for a moment with his strong arms bracing her. An unbidden swoop of electricity dipped through her with his nearness. He smelled fresh… like crisp leaves and sunshine. 

Finally pulling back, quite aware that the natural time to do so had already passed, Rose looked up and found him looking right back. “I, er… sorry,” she smiled, extricating herself from his supportive grasp. “Guess I should stick to sea level rides from now on,” she grinned. 

He grinned back. She swallowed. It was a really gorgeous smile. “Nonsense,” he assured her. “You did brilliantly. That fact that you did it at all was brilliant,” he smiled.

Rose’s lips echoed his and turned up in return as she tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. “Suppose we should…” she trailed off, gesturing to the exit gate. 

“Oh, yeah,” the man agreed, not moving. 

Rose grinned. Neither of them moved. 

“Sorry… you’ll have to exit the platform,” the teen attendant informed them as he moved past them to usher new riders into the coaster cars.

“Oh, right… sorry,” Rose said, turning to leave. The tall drink of manhood she’d just been clutching followed close behind. 

“I, uh… I didn’t catch your name,” he said, catching up to walk beside her. 

“I’m Rose,” she smiled up at him. “What’s yours?”

“John. But friends call me the Doctor,” he offered.

“The Doctor? Are you one, then?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious. Had she just been swooning in the arms of someone so far out of her league that he might as well be on another planet?

He nodded. “Not the medical kind. I’ve got a Doctorate in Physics. My cousin has called me the Doctor since I was a kid though… couldn’t get enough of chemistry sets and the like,” he shared. 

Great. A bloody educated genius. Figured. “Wow. Physics. That’s impressive,” she said, her confidence now withering.

John shrugged. “I suppose. My family thinks so,” he said, nonchalantly. 

They were now back in among the throngs of people on the grounds. Spying Shareen a ways off, Rose smiled politely at the sadly gorgeous male she had no hope in hell with. Not that she should even be _thinking_ like that. _Remember Mickey?_ her conscience pointed out practically.

“Thanks for… that, back there,” Rose said, nodding back toward the coaster. 

“My pleasure,” he said, his deep brown eyes twinkling. Rose sighed. 

“I’d better, uh…” she said, indicating that she should be heading off. 

“Oh. Uh, okay,” he said a bit awkwardly, tugging at his right ear. He obviously wanted to prolong this… maybe get her number or something. That was something she definitely didn’t want to give him. It was shamefully bad enough that she was secretly wishing he’d ask for it even though had a boyfriend, but on top of that… even if she _didn’t_ have a boyfriend… she still wouldn’t want this man finding out how below him she really was. 

“Right, well… bye then,” she smiled noncommittally before quickly turning to thread her way through the crowd toward Shareen. A big part of her wanted to look back, but she fought the impulse despite the feeling of eyes on her back. There was no point entertaining fantasies of ever being with someone like him, and one last glance would do nothing but fuel a futile desire for just that. 

Resolutely, she plodded ahead. She might not ever be worthy of dating a bloke like that, but meeting him and going on that blasted coaster had taught her something. There were good people in the world who would support her when she was scared. She was also braver than she’d ever imagined she was. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

The trip to the amusement park ended in a reluctant truce between Rose and Shareen, who had been suitably impressed with Rose’s fortitude and bravery with regard to her participation in the ride of death, as Rose now remembered it. Shareen had to concede that Rose had it in her to be both adventurous and brave, but she refused to apologize for pushing her buttons. If she hadn’t, her mate had reasoned, Rose wouldn’t have actually taken the leap to ride the coaster in the first place. Rose had to reluctantly agree that she was probably right. 

That had been two full days ago, and Rose’s mind hadn’t quieted since she’d emerged alive from the ‘coaster car of certain demise’. It seemed like such a small event in the big scheme of things… riding a stupid roller coaster... but it hadn’t been. Not for her. It had been life changing and she’d sensed the importance of it at the time. She’d defied one of her deep fears and she was still around to tell the tale. It was… liberating. One of the things she’d feared for so long had been boldly defeated. That’s how it felt. And then, of course, there was the hand that had held hers through it all. It’s not like she and that bloke would ever have a chance, but… well… it just proved to her that there was so much more out there, wasn’t there? More people to meet. More to discover. More to overcome. Just… more.

Beside her, Mickey snorted in laughter at something on the telly. Rose sighed. Then there was… this. 

Mickey reached across her to dip his hand in the bowl of crisps, his eyes never leaving the screen before them. Rose blew out a heavy breath between her lips. She couldn’t do this anymore. She just couldn’t.

Reaching for the remote, she clicked the telly off. 

“Oi!” Mickey exclaimed. “I was watchin’ that.”

Rose’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably. She took a steadying breath. “Mickey… can we talk?”

“But…” he said, looking longingly at the screen before turning to take in her expression. He must’ve read something in her eyes, because he stopped arguing. “Sure, babe. What’s up?” 

Once again, Rose took a deep breath. Just say it. “Micks… you know I love you, right?” 

Mickey’s eyebrows furrowed. “Course. What’s this about?” his voice now coloured in worry.

Rose stood and paced across the living room. Swallowing thickly, she said, “I think… I think this is a mistake,” she said finally stopping to look at him directly.

“What is?”

Rose sighed. “This. Us,” she said gesturing between them. “Mickey… you… you’re my best mate. You’re important to me…”

“Wait a minute…” Mickey interrupted, “Are… are you breakin’ up with me?” he said, his worried expression deepening.

The look on Mickey’s face and the surprise in his voice nearly derailed her, but Rose pulled herself together as much as she could and plunged ahead. “Micks… I don’t want to… that is, I wish I didn’t have to, but…” she trailed off.

“But I’m not good enough to be your boyfriend,” he said, now defensive.

“No… that’s not it,” she said, trying to defuse him. “Of course you’re good enough… it’s just… I’ve wanted this to work. You an’ me. But… even though I really tried… I just don’t feel _that way_ about you,” she said sadly, gazing down at her hands. Looking up again, she found his eyes glistening and her heart tore from her chest. Moving to sit beside him again, she took his hands. “Micks… I love you. I wasn’t lyin’. But I love you like a brother… not a boyfriend. You’re my best mate in the world and now… now I’m scared I’ve ruined it. But I just can’t go on pretending that we can be more than that,” she said lowly, her own eyes stinging with threatening tears.

Mickey’s lips pushed into a thin line and he nodded his head. “Yeah, well… I, uh… I can’t,” he cleared his throat, “I can’t pretend I _don’t_ feel more than that, Rose,” he said, his voice clogged with emotion. “I can’t go back to bein’ your friend. I’m sorry. I need more than that.”

The tears Rose had been nursing finally fell. “I’m sorry… I just can’t,” she admitted, now unable to meet his eyes.

Mickey nodded his understanding. They sat together in tense silence for a few moments before he stood. “I, uh… I should…” his voiced cracked before he headed quickly for the door. Rose stood and followed. “Mickey…” she entreated as he opened the door. 

“I’ll… I’ll see you ‘round,” he said sadly before closing the door behind him. 

Part of her wanted to chase behind him and apologize. Take it all back. She’d hurt her best mate in the world. 

The wiser part of her, though, knew that that would be the wrong thing to do. As painful as this felt, she’d done the right thing. Her heart knew it. Leaning against the back of the door, she closed her eyes and let remorse wash over her. Tears streamed down her cheeks now unabated. If this was right… why did it hurt so much?


	3. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which our OTP meet again... 
> 
> Special thanks to my dearest TenRoseForever who has helped me immensely with this story so far! If I didn't think my husband would be jealous, I'd have to kiss her hard for all her help!!! ;) That said, all mistakes are my very own.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!

### Running Out : Chapter 3 - Reality

The next few days went by in a sort of emotional blur. News of Rose and Mickey’s breakup travelled quickly through their circle of friends, and she’d had no shortage of people putting in their two cents about what a terrible mistake she’d made… all except Shareen, of course. Her friend had been completely supportive, which she was incredibly thankful for. After a tearful knock on her door, a bottle of wine and a sobbing explanation of what had happened, Shareen had wrapped her in a much needed hug and had given her a loving pat on the back for having taken the big step of getting on with her life.

Pretty much the very opposite had come from her mother who’d made sure she’d gotten an earful the next day. “What in God’s name were you thinkin’, Rose?! Mickey’s perfect for you!” she’d shrilled. “He’s got a job, he’s got a flat… he loves you… what more could you want?” she’d harped. “It’s Shareen fillin’ your head with nonsense again, isn’t it? Honestly… that girl should get her head out of the clouds. All she’d doin’ is distractin’ you from real life, Rose. There’s no point waitin’ for a big ol’ glass carriage an’ Prince Charmin’ to show up, because that’s not gonna happen,” she’d warned in full tilt mother mode.

The lecture continued for what seemed like hours and ended with Rose leaving her Mum’s flat in a dejected huff. She’d gone there hoping for support, but in retrospect she’d known full well what kind of reaction she’d get. Why did she bother?

Now, as she hung up another ski jacket on the sales rack, she once again found herself rethinking her decision. Maybe she’d made a mistake. What if there _wasn’t_ anything more for her? What if she never amounted to more than this? I mean… look at her. She was still stuck in this dead end job, going about her drab day to day existence. It wasn’t like breaking up with Mickey had been some magic catalyst for change. All that had changed was that she was miserable and that she’d broken her best friend’s heart.

Well, it was too late for remorse now, wasn’t it? With residual courage left over from a fairground ride she’d gone and jumped off a cliff without looking down to see if there was anything below to land on. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, she rubbed her temples. She had a headache. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up unconscious in bed again… away from work, away from her friends, away from her Mum and away from her own guilt. Maybe all she needed was to go out and drink herself under a table. 

No. That’s not what she wanted. What she really wanted was a forgiving hug. A supportive hand to hold. Someone else to tell her again that she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.

An image of the brown eyed, pinstriped bloke with the incredible hair floated through her mind. She imagined him to be the sort of person who’d be supportive of her life changing decision. He’d seemed to appreciate her efforts to expand her horizons. 

God. Look at her. Now she was seeking imaginary approval from the equivalent of a fictional Prince Charming. _’John… the magical Doctor.’_ He’d become this sort of… mythical figure in her mind now. This brave knight in shining armour with power to save her from her own fears. It was ridiculous. He was just some bloke she’d met for a few minutes on a carnival ride. He was a stranger. 

Her thoughts had come back to the tall, good-looking Doctor too many times since she’d made a beeline away from him on the fairgrounds, and she had to admit it was a bit disconcerting. If he’d have actually discovered her lot in life… well, it was useless even thinking about him, wasn’t it? 

So why was she, then?

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind and focus back on the task at hand. She’d been given the glorious assignment of racking and repricing the sales items, which, in itself wasn’t so bad. What _was_ bad was that it was Saturday. 

She hated working Saturdays. The weekend manager, Cassandra, was a really bitchy hoity-toity slag of a woman who took her lower management position far too seriously and who seemed to take perverse pleasure in making Rose’s life hell. The other girls at Henriks uncharitably called her the ‘human trampoline’, as she was quite known for her seduction and subsequent bedding of good looking patrons. As much as Rose didn’t like dissing people behind their backs, she had to agree that the woman was less than agreeable. And today she was being particularly annoying as she was hovering and criticizing Rose’s performance on every menial chore she had her do. It was doing little for her dwindling self esteem.   
Quickly casting a glance at her watch, she sighed. Still an hour and a half to go. This day couldn’t go by fast enough. 

“Can I help you?” she heard Cassandra intone in the sickeningly sweet voice she reserved for male customers. The sound grated on every nerve Rose had and she did her best to tune it out.

The next sound, though, made her tune back in instantly. “Um… I’m just looking for a pair of hiking trousers. Do you carry those?” 

Rose’s head shot up. Oh God. It was him. It was John. 

Quickly looking around for somewhere to duck out of sight, she found herself completely out of luck when Cassandra’s cloying voice caught her ear.

“We certainly do, sir. I can show you,” she offered sweetly, leading the Doctor toward her where she stood sorting the sports gear. Damn it.

Just as Rose turned to dart off in the opposite direction, she heard his voice. “Rose?”

Turning slowly, she pasted a broad smile on her face. “Oh, hi there,” she said as brightly as she could muster. “John, right?” she said, knowing full well that was his name.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he agreed with a winning smile. Rose’s stomach twisted pleasantly as his deep brown eyes settled on hers. God, he was magnetic. 

“Um… what you doin’ here?” she asked politely, twirling her hooped earring. She knew it was a nervous habit, but she was nervous so it only seemed natural that this was a good time to partake in such a activity. 

“Oh… just looking for some hiking trousers,” he said, as if that explained everything. Well, she supposed it did. it wasn’t like it was his obligation to provide her with more information, after all.

“Right,” she smiled, aware she was poking her tongue out in a decidedly flirtatious way despite the fact her brain was advising against doing so.

Cassandra’s demeanor shifted less than subtly from sweet to almost blatantly put out. She was obviously quite miffed that this attractive man actually seemed genuinely interested in her underling rather than herself. Part of Rose revelled in the petty victory, she had to admit, as much as she knew it was truly just that. Petty.

“Since you seem to know each other, I’ll let Rose show you the hiking gear, then,” Cassandra unwillingly acquiesced. 

“Thanks,” John said, not taking his eyes from Rose, who blushed under his now quite pointed attention.

“Rose… when you’re done you need to restock the pants section. And this time make sure you’ve got the right stock numbers underneath them or you’ll have to redo them,” Cassandra said pointedly.

“Yes, M’am,” Rose answered, her voice dropping in embarrassment. She’d never mis-stocked the merchandise nor mislabeled them before. Cassandra was just making a show of putting Rose in her place in front of this gorgeous bloke. That’s what this was about. 

She really shouldn’t let Cassandra get to her, but at the moment Rose wanted to crawl away and hide somewhere. There was no getting away from it now. She was a pee-on here. She was the lowest of the low on the totem pole and now the one man she’d desperately hoped would never find that out had witnessed it first hand. 

John seemed to pick up on her discomfort, but was obviously lost as to how to address it. Rose sighed. Might as well get this overwith. “The trousers are this way,” she advised, feeling defeated as she turned to lead him toward the correct section of racks. 

Behind her, John’s voice offered, “Uh… did I get you in trouble in some way? If so, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to,” he apologized. 

Rose sighed and turned to look at the still very attractive man. He was wearing a blue pin-striped jacket over a maroon tee with jeans today and he looked as delicious as he had the other day at the park. She had to admit he was making it difficult to concentrate on why she should really dismiss any hope he might be interested in her. If he had been before, he certainly wouldn’t be now after witnessing her living in her natural habitat. 

“No… it’s not you. She’s always like that,” Rose explained, feeling quite small.

“Well, that’s no way to treat a valuable employee,” John said, looking over his shoulder for the woman offender. “I should complain. No one should be treated like that… not in front of customers or anyone else for that matter,” he said, his voice growing hard.

“No, it’s okay, John, really,” Rose said, her anxiety rising. The last thing she needed was him complaining about Cassandra. She’d know immediately who it was and would make Rose’s life even more hellish from now on. And she needed this blasted job, unfortunately. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s alright. I believe in karma. One day it’ll come back to her… the horrible way she’s treated people,” Rose intoned. She’d had far too many nasty encounters with the woman to draw on as proof of that. 

“Anyway…you need to get trousers, yeah?” Rose said lightly in an effort to change the subject. “Goin’ hikin’?” she asked, turning to lead him to a nearby rack housing ski trousers in various colours and sizes.

“Nah,” he answered. “I’m climbing a mountain. Weeellll… three to be exact.”

Rose looked up at him to seeing if he was teasing. Nope… he looked completely serious. “Really? What mountains?” she asked, now truly interested. She’d never been and frankly didn't think she ever could, but she definitely admired other people who had it on them to to such a thing. 

“I’m doing the Three Peaks Challenge. We climb the highest mountains in Scotland, England and Wales in twenty-four hours. Not sure I’ll make it, but I’m gonna give it my best,” he shared.

“Wow,” Rose replied, aware how ineloquent she sounded but unable think of anything more lofty to say. In an effort to draw attention away from that fact she said, “Um… what size are you?” gesturing toward the full rack of trousers in front of them. 

“Oh, uh… large, I guess. Is that how they’re sized?” he asked. 

Rose nodded, turning to dig through the trousers in front of her. “So… that’s pretty impressive, climbing mountains. You been trainin’ long?” she asked, pulling out a pair of navy trousers to hand to him.

“Uh, no. Not really,” he said a bit shyly. “Actually… not at all. Just gonna do my best and see how it goes,” he admitted. 

Rose’s lips tipped up in a genuine smile. “Really? You’re just gonna… go and see if you make it?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I mean… I’m not completely out of shape. I try to stay fit. But I decided… well, why not, really? Might as well give it a shot. You only live once, as they say. Thought I should actually try some things out while I have the chance,” he grinned.

Rose smiled back, her tongue tucked in her teeth and butterflies taking flight in her belly. He was the whole package, this one. Smart, full of life, kind…

… and WAAAAY out of her league, she thought glumly to herself, bringing her plunging straight back down to earth. 

“Listen,” his tenor voice interrupted her mental lament. “I, uh… I know this is a bit forward… we just met, after all… but I wonder, would you maybe like to, uh… would you like to go out for dinner with me? When I get back?” he asked, an adorable blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Rose stood aghast for a moment. Was she dreaming? 

“You don’t have to, of course… I completely understand if you’re, you know… seeing someone… I didn’t even ask…” he started, clearly uncomfortable with the flummoxed look on her face.

“No! No. I mean, no… I’m not seein’ anyone right now,” Rose assured him, a goofy grin now replacing the shock on her features. “And I’d love to. Go out to dinner with you, that is,” she clarified. 

A brilliant smile lit his gorgeous features. “Brilliant! I, uh… how about I give you a call when I get back, yeah? I’ll be back in town on Tuesday… maybe I can call you Tuesday night?” he suggested.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” Rose said, sounding more shy than she intended. A _Doctor_ wanted to go on a date with her. 

Despite the fact her Mum was mourning the loss of Mickey, she wasn’t gonna be able to fault her on this one. In fact, she was pretty sure she was gonna have kittens. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

The Doctor let himself into the house with bags of equipment and gear under his arm with Jack following close behind.

“This is a terrible idea, Doctor,” Jack warned tramping up the stairs behind him as John made his way up to his bedroom with his booty. “How is this possibly going to help right now?” he asked, concern permeating his voice.

John reached for the lightweight backpack he’d purchased and sat it on the bed. Opening it up, he made his way to the closet and began pulling various clothing items out to pack in it. “Jack… we’ve talked about this,” John began. 

“No. _You_ talked about this. _I_ didn’t agree to any of it,” Jack clarified. “And what do you think Donna’s gonna say when she hears about your brilliant plan?”

The Doctor shot Jack a distinct look of warning. “She’s not to hear of it before I go. Got it?” 

“Yeah, I got it. That doesn’t mean she won’t figure it out though. Your sister has a sixth sense, I swear,” Jack asked matter of factly. “What time is your flight tomorrow, anyway?” 

“6:45,” he answered. “I’m back Tuesday at half four.”

Jack just shook his head. “This is just… foolhardy. You’re in no shape for this. You’ve never climbed a hill let alone a mountain. And you’re wasting valuable time, Doc. The doctors…”

“The doctors are useless,” the Doctor summarized flatly. “And I’m not gonna bury myself in self-pity. I’ve things I have to do, so I’m gonna do them,” he said assuredly.

Jack’s lips formed into a tight line. “Well, you seem hellbent on self destruction, so just… go ahead then,” Jack said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a frustrated huff. 

“Jack… please don’t do that,” John begged.

“What?” Jack said, his voice betraying his annoyance.

“Don’t try to make me feel badly about this. Please.”

Jack deflated a bit and sighed, now rubbing his temples. After a moment he said more gently, “Sorry, Doc. It’s just… I worry. And I hate to think you’ve given up, you know?” 

The Doctor sighed as well and his shoulders slumped. Pushing aside the backpack, he sat forlornly on the edge of the bed. “I’m not giving up, Jack. Not on purpose. But you know and I know… the chances of beating this aren’t good. I’ve researched it. Hell… I _caused_ it. A cure is possible, but not without the equipment, and the Uni isn't about to rescind its decision," John reminded him gently.

Jack’s hands bunched into fists at his side and his jaw tightened. “There must be _some_ way to talk them into helping you,” he said, frustration oozing from him. “You’ve been there for six years, for God’s sake! They’ve made millions off your research. Now, when you need them…”

John nodded, knowing exactly how he felt. “I know, Jack. But this was my own fault and now I’m paying the price for my own vanity,” he said, reluctantly resigned.

Jack shook his head. “No. That’s… you’re telling me they didn’t encourage that research? Of course they did. They stood to make… God… maybe a billion pounds off of it!” he blustered. “If it had gone according to plan…”

“But it didn’t,” John reminded him.

“That doesn’t mean that it still won’t,” he countered.

“Yeah, well… not with me,” John said, his eyes distant. “My days are numbered and unless a miracle happens…” he shrugged. “That’s why I need to do this. I just don’t want to spend the last six to eight weeks of my life waiting, Jack. I want to _live_ whatever life I have left,” he said, resigned. 

The thick frustration boiling through Jack seeped out of him then. Nodding his understanding, he answered quietly, “I know. I get it. I’d probably want to do the same thing in your position,” he reluctantly acknowledged. “I’ll try to distract Donna while you’re gone.”

“Thanks, Jack. I appreciate that,” John said gratefully. 

“Just don’t expect me to cover for you if she finds out. She scares me, Doc. I don’t know what side of the family she got her temper from, but it wasn’t your Mom’s side,” he said, a visual shiver going down his spine.

“I know,” John smiled. Yeah. Donna was a force to be reckoned with, there was no doubt. He loved her for it though, and as trying as she could be at times, he knew she loved him fiercely. He felt the same way about her. After they’d lost their parents as teenagers, he and Donna had clung to each other and saved each other’s arses more than once. He knew he’d never have made it through the trauma of his parents’ deaths without her there. 

Sometimes, though, her need to protect him actually stood in the way, and this was one of those times. He needed to do this. If he died halfway up one of the mountains, he’d die happy knowing he’d not simply laid down and waited for it to happen. His goal was to meet the grim reaper head on. 

He had to admit though, that he really quite hoped he made it back in one piece. He’d added a key activity to his very last 'to do' list that had very quickly become a top priority on said list. Go on a date with Rose Tyler. He hadn’t mentioned the possibility to Jack, knowing the man’s proclivity for illicit one night stands. He wouldn’t understand the real meaning behind this particular bucket list item. He’d assume it was some frivolous need for one final fling… one final shag. Such a misunderstanding would sully the altruism of his intention and make it cheap and that’s not what he wanted.

Rose seemed so like him. Not that he knew that for a fact, of course. After all, he’d only spent a harrowing few minutes with her, and most of those were spent with her eyes closed and him admiring her for her bravery. It had been painfully clear she was beyond terrified of being on the ride right from the outset, but she’d tackled her fear and did it anyhow. 

In that sense, she really _wasn’t_ like him, if he was being honest. He’d never really had that kind of courage before now. Until this happened to him, he’d lived a very careful life. His parents’ deaths had taught him to fear everything. To hide from risk. And in his efforts to protect his own health and his heart, he’d become too afraid of the world to really experience it. He’d carefully planned every part of his life… his schooling, his career, his relationships. All had been meticulously thought out. Nothing was left to chance when he could help it. Women he’d dated were highly educated and well placed. For that very reason every relationship he’d been in before now had been dull and lacked luster. 

Well… at least he wasn’t that man anymore. There wasn’t enough time in one’s life to waste being afraid and overly careful. He’d learned that the hard way. And somehow he could sense Rose was on the verge of understanding that as well. 

He wished now someone had sat him down long ago and made him aware how important it was to live life while you had it. Well… now he had the chance to do exactly that for someone. A date with Rose Tyler would give him a chance to introduce her to the idea that there was more to life than fear. If it worked… if he could even help one person before he went… well, it might make this all a bit more palatable. Plus, if there really _was_ karma, as Rose had said, it certainly couldn’t hurt to put a small positive deposit down in case it ever showed an interest in visiting him.

Of course, his motives for wanting to spend some time with her went a bit beyond his lofty goal of saving her from her own fears. He found her fascinating and incredibly attractive. Fascinating in that she was so _not_ a woman he’d have considered dating before now. She was young… a fair bit younger than he was, he guessed. His relationships thus far had been with women his age or even older than he. On top of her youth, she seemed humble, she had a sense of quiet humour, and a sort of innocent curiosity. He honestly couldn’t have labeled any of his previous girlfriends as having any of those qualities. And as far as attractiveness went… well, there was really no comparison there either. He found her, quite literally, breathtaking.

It was crazy to think it, but he actually found himself hoping she’d agree to share some of these new and crazy experiences with him. Of course, she’d only just met him. She’d be barmy to drop everything to run away with him to follow such a ridiculous path, but then… isn’t that something he now wished he’d done for himself long ago. Taken a crazy chance to live life like this?

“Doc… you okay?” he heard Jack’s voice waft through his engrossing thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh… sorry. I was miles away,” he acknowledged. 

Jack rolled his eyes. “What else is new?” he complained. “C’mon… let’s put on the telly and drink until we pass out,” he suggested, leading the way out of John’s room and into the living room. 

John looked back at his half assembled bag. He really should pack. Then again… he had tomorrow to finish. And really… why not have a few? He’d never been a big drinker, but it wasn't like he was saving his liver for anything now. He smiled sadly at that. 

Morbidly, he wondered if there were any other body parts he could ignore the health of now. He’d heard there was a restaurant somewhere that served an eight patty burger called ‘The Heartstopper’. Sounded like a dare to him. He supposed he could take up smoking now as well, if he wanted to. 

The vision of a gorgeous blonde floated before him for a moment. Nah. She probably wouldn’t fall for a smoker. What if she wanted to kiss him at some point before he kicked the bucket? He didn’t think she’d fancy the idea of snogging an ashtray.

For a fleeting moment he wondered if he might ever actually feel the press of her plump lips against his own. What if he’d already experienced his last kiss and he didn’t even know it?

God. How morose. 

“Hey, Doc! You coming?” Jack’s voice sang from the other room. 

Yeah. He definitely needed a beer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A first date is always a thrilling, stressful event...
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks so much to all who've decided to join in on this story. Your faves and comments are always appreciated!

### Running Out : Chapter 4 - Mountains to Climb

The restaurant was an intimate, romantic candlelit affair. Sitting at the table John had reserved, Rose sat waiting nervously for him to arrive. He’d called her last night, asking if he could pick her up at her flat for dinner tonight. Immediately she’d turned down his offer of picking her up. Her flat was in a less desirable part of town and she really didn’t want him seeing where she lived. Granted, it was a small step up from Powell Estate, but she was sure it was nothing like where he lived. No… she’d meet him at the restaurant, she’d assured him, citing her need to visit a mate beforehand.

Then he gave her the name of the restaurant. She’d heard of it, but had never set foot in it. The place was completely posh, making her anxiety spike when he mentioned the name on the phone. What was she even gonna wear? She hadn’t let on she was a bit surprised at his choice of places to eat, however. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she considered such a location to be far too sophisticated for her. So, putting on an air of nonchalance, she’d accepted his invitation with what she hoped was grace when internally she was near to barfing. 

The day had been spent with Shareen going through her closet and giving critiques on why she should avoid this style and why she really shouldn’t wear that colour. In the end, her friend had dragged her out shopping, deciding that neither of them owned anything that looked posh enough for dinner at ‘Sharma’s’. Rose had, of course, protested, but Shareen had insisted, offering to pay half as an early birthday present… nevermind that Rose’s birthday was four months from now. 

Finally, after foot aching hours of scouring the shops she decided on a simple, short, form fitting, black dress with an attractive sweetheart neckline and a pair of high black heels. She finished it all off with a silver necklace that held a hanging black pendant. 

Now… a shower, a blowdry, and a half-hour of make-up application later… she sat alone in the restaurant with nervous butterflies flittering in her belly.

The table she sat at was in a secluded corner of the restaurant and the waiter had already brought her a glass of white wine without her even ordering it. She wondered if John had asked for it to be delivered to the table when she got there. He’d planned to meet her right a six, but she’d gotten a text at about half-five apologizing that he was going to be few minutes late but that he’d made reservations under his name, ‘John Smith’, so she could just ask to be seated to wait for him if she wanted. 

She could’ve waited to actually show up as well, but honestly, she liked the idea of giving herself a few minutes alone to acclimatize to the elegant surroundings… even if it was simply for the purpose of looking at the place settings and trying to recall when to use what spoons and forks and such. Her mother had once gone over all that with her for this very purpose… in case some rich bloke ever took her ‘somewhere nice’. Now she wished she’d paid more attention.

“Is this seat taken?” a honeyed tenor voice said, knocking her out of her mental musings.

Flashing her eyes up, she found John standing beside the table looking breathtakingly attractive in the same brown pin-striped suit he’d been wearing when she first met him. He was wearing a purple swirly tie with it this time though, and a pair of dark rimmed glasses that made her insides melt. 

Offering him a flirty smile back, she said, “Not yet. Just waitin’ for a friend. You’re welcome to join me while I wait,” she suggested.

A toothy grin erupted on his handsome face and he pulled out the other seat at the table to sit. “Thanks… I think I might,” he agreed, sitting down and undoing his jacket buttons. “Sorry I was late… my sister’s boyfriend is out of town and she needed me to drop her off at her office last minute,” he explained.

“Oh… it’s fine. I was just enjoying the atmosphere,” she said, looking around the dimly lit restaurant. “It’s beautiful,” she added.

Looking around as well, he said, “I’m glad you like it. Never been here myself, but Jack… my cousin… he told me it’s a perfect place for a first date,” he said playing with his napkin, a slight blush tinging his cheeks.

Rose smiled, trying to ignore the warmness of her own cheeks in response. “Well, it’s lovely,” she assured him. 

Looking up, he offered her a shy smile, making her insides gooey. His eyes were such a deep brown, she felt she could get lost in them. That was when she noticed a dark gash just above his right eye that peeked out from under his artfully tousled locks. 

“Oh my God! What happened to you?” she blurted, reigning in the desire to reach out to push aside a strand of concealing hair. 

“What? Oh...yeah… that,” he said, self consciously touching his forehead. “I, uh… I was pretty convinced I could manage it up a bit of rather nasty terrain, but my body had other ideas. Sort of fell and cut myself up a bit,” he explained. “Still… I managed to finish the last climb. I was pretty chuffed about that,” he admitted.

“Oh… well, thank-goodness you’re alright,” she said, a smile replacing the concern on her face. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said honestly. 

An electric sort of silence descended for a moment before Rose could think of some way to initiate conversation. “So… you mentioned you had to drive your sister to her office? What does she do?” she asked.

Taking a deep breath, he launched into an description of his sister, Donna, who was apparently a bit of a spit-fire who started her own catering company after finishing cooking school. From John’s descriptions of the woman, Rose thought she’d probably like the her immensely. 

“What about you? Any siblings?” John asked, nodding his thanks to a waiter who’d just placed a full bottle of white wine in an ice bucket beside the table. 

“Me? No. Just me an’ my Mum. My Dad died when I was just a baby,” she shared.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” John said, his eyes reflecting honest remorse. 

“Thanks. I don’t remember him really. Mum says he was always full of crazy ideas that never really went anywhere. Always told me I’d better keep my head on my shoulders instead of letting it float in the clouds like he did,” she shared.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” John said wistfully. “Sometimes I think we spend too much time with our feet firmly planted on terra firma. I used to think the same thing. My parents… they died when I was twelve,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Oh… I’m so sorry,” she offered, now understanding the empathy rolling off of him when she’d shared her Dad’s fate. 

He nodded his thanks and pulled off his glasses to fiddle with the rims as he talked. “Donna and I lived with my Uncle Wilf and my cousin Jack after that. My uncle was brilliant… he cared for us like we were his own, but life… it just wasn’t the same after Mum and Dad passed. I took the careful road. Afraid to make mistakes. Afraid to try new things.” 

“Really?” Rose said, surprised. “You seem like a daring sort of bloke. Mountain climbing… defying death on terrifying roller coasters…”

John smirked. “Yeah… none of that is really typical of me, I’m afraid,” he offered. It’s just… some things have happened in my life lately…" he trailed off, lost in thought. He looked… haunted, Rose thought. A split second later, though, the expression was gone and he came back to himself. “Anyway… they made me examine my life and decide where being careful my whole life has gotten me. I’m not sorry for the things I’ve accomplished, but I _am_ sorry for the many things I’ve missed out on that I could’ve experienced. Now… well, I’ve decided life is too short. I’ve… I need to actually live my life now instead of watching it pass me by,” he shared, his eyes now intent and studying Rose’s carefully. 

At that moment, for some reason, she felt he was actually looking far beyond her carefully sculpted exterior and was staring straight into her soul. The way he talked about approaching his life… without risk… it was exactly how she’d been living. Taking life in careful steps. Rarely taking chances. She’d always done what was expected of her… except for dating Jimmy, of course… but when that went bad she immediately settled back into careful predictability. This last sojourn into romance with Mickey had been the pinnacle example of her cautious nature. Mickey was a safe harbour. He was dependable, he was consistent, and everyone thought he was right for her. To think she had been so close to truly giving up hope of ever meeting anyone she would love in a more meaningful way. Unbidden, Rose actually felt herself tear up. 

“Hey… you alright?” John said, his hand tentatively reaching out to lightly cover her own.

Rolling her eyes and putting on a smile, she let out a little watery laugh. “Yeah… ‘M sorry… I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” she said, quickly wiping her eye with her free hand, not willing to pull her other out from under John’s warm touch.

An understanding smile played on John’s handsome features. “I’ve got a feeling I touched a nerve?” he ventured. 

Rose squirmed. Her life's problems weren't necessarily what she had thought of discussing on a first date with this man. The last thing he needed was for her to blubber her problems all over him.

Pulling his hand away, John sat up a bit straighter, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I’m… I’m sorry. It’s none of my business,” he started.

“No… no,” Rose assured him, realizing he’d taken her silence as offense. She sighed. “It’s just that… well, I’ve been goin’ through a bit of a rough patch lately,” she reluctantly shared, biting her lip. Looking up, she found he wasn’t cringing, as she’d half expectant he would. Instead, his expression was inviting. He actually seemed to want to hear it. 

Inwardly she sighed. Oh, what the hell. In for a penny… “I broke up with my long time boyfriend a week back. He was a really sweet bloke, but… well, we sort of grew up together. Everyone thought we were meant for each other, you know? But I just… he was like a brother. I couldn’t get past it. Finally I had to break it off. It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to me,” she admitted. “I guess… I sort of know what you’re talkin’ about. Bein’ careful. Not takin’ chances. Sort of describes my life too, really,” she shared.

John nodded and gave her a soft, understanding smile. “Sounds like you took a chance by leaving him, though,” he said supportively. 

Rose let out a little laugh. “Yeah… I suppose you could look at it like that. Everyone thinks I’m completely barmy for having done it, though. Especially my Mum,” she admitted. 

John smiled. “Well, I don’t. Think it was a brilliant idea, really. Firstly, you, Rose Tyler, deserve more than… comfortable. You’re too young and vibrant to settle for just ‘alright’. And ‘B’, I wouldn’t be sitting across from you right now if you hadn’t broken up with him. Now that would’ve been a real shame,” he ventured.

Rose smiled widely. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that then?”

“Weeellll… I’m a bit brilliant, aren’t I?” he exaggeratedly preened. “And I’ve got great taste in women. Aaaand... “ he said, looking around, “Well… that’s probably it, really. Still… I’m not that bad as far as a date goes?” he asked more than stated.

Rose laughed out loud now. “No… you’re not so bad,” she grinned. 

John took that opportunity to reach across the table to cover her hand with his again. “And you’re actually incredible, Rose Tyler,” he said, his face becoming a bit more serious. 

Rose blushed warmly, casting her eyes down. “I’m hardly incredible. Not like you. A Doctor of Physics, an’ all,” she said shyly. 

John squeezed her hand a bit to get her to pull her gaze back to him. “No, Rose. I’ve learned that it takes spectacular fortitude to push yourself beyond comfort in order to really pursue happiness. And I can see that in you. You have… resolve. And you’re brave. And I wish I had had that in me before now,” he shared. 

Rose’s mind reeled with his comment. He hardly knew her, yet he seemed so sure about her. She certainly didn’t _feel_ as brave and resolved as he described her, that’s for sure. Still… she couldn’t deny that having someone show such confidence in you when they only just met you… it was flattering.

“Well… thanks. I don’t know about all that, but I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she shared. 

He smiled warmly at her. He seemed about to say something else when the waiter came by to take their orders. John looked at the menu and asked the waiter a few questions about the specials before deferring to her to order first. 

Caught off guard, Rose panicked. Looking down at the menu, she realized she couldn’t even read it. It was written in French. “Uh,” she started, her voice annoyingly betraying her discomfort.

After a moment of incredibly uncomfortable silence, John saved her. “Rose… may I?” he offered, looking from her to the waiter and back. 

“Oh… yeah. Er….Yes. Thanks,” she corrected herself, relief flooding her.

John looked back at the waiter and fluently ordered in French. Rose was sure her jaw dropped open when the romantic language left his lips to float around her. The waiter seemed to understand everything he said, and smiled pleasantly at them both before relieving them of their menus and walking away.

“Wow… you speak French as well? You weren’t kidding when you said you were brilliant,” she smiled.

He shrugged. “My Dad insisted Donna and I learn a second language growing up. I really took to it, but Donna… well, languages were never her thing,” he shared. “Still… sometimes you can be the smartest person in the room and still be the most daft,” he added conspiratorially. 

John went on to describe a particularly embarrassing situation involving him, his cousin Jack, and a full litre of Jack Daniels. By the end of his story Rose was laughing so hard, the people around them were casting glances. John didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he seemed to encourage it, adding little asides about the look on Jack’s face and the drunken text to his own boss, who was apparently the Dean of the Physics department at Imperial College. 

The meal came after a time, and Rose was surprised to find there was actually remarkable little on the plate. Not that she expected there to be food falling off the sides of it, but she’d expected a bit more than two sprigs of asparagus and a three ounce artfully decorated morsel of meat in the middle of the presentation.

“Where the rest of it?” she heard John say from the other side of the table. Looking up she found him staring dejectedly at the pittance sitting before him. His platter housed the same offerings hers did and he looked less than impressed. “I think they accidently dropped the rest of the meal on the way to the table,” he offered.

Rose giggled. “It’s fine, really,” she placated, not wanting him to feel badly for the meager offerings. Reaching for the fork and knife that she hoped were the correct ones, she cut into the tiny portion of… was it steak? Pulling it up to her lips, she opened up and placed the utensil in her mouth. Rich fantasticness exploded on her tongue. Closing her eyes, she savoured the tangy, deep flavours playing on her tastebuds. This was delicious. An actual moan escaped her as she chewed. “This is... brilliant,” she gushed before opening her eyes. 

John was staring at her, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes glued to her lips. Rose once again blushed brightly. God… he was going to think bright pink was her regular colour. John swallowed thickly before darting his gaze away. “Um… I’m glad it tastes good, at least,” he said almost raspily.

Inwardly Rose smiled. He found her attractive. Her insides twisted happily with the realization. It was quite an ego boost to have a man lost just by looking at you. She’d honestly never considered herself to be gorgeous by any stretch, but she knew she wasn’t unappealing to look at at least. Right now, though, he was making her feel decidedly beautiful. 

They both ate the small samples of food they’d been given, and it wasn’t surprising it didn’t take them long. They’d passed the meal talking about their families and he shared a bit about his position at the University. Seems he actually quite liked teaching, but that he was currently on a leave so he could pursue some of his extra-curricular dreams. 

She couldn’t help but feel a bit of longing for that kind of freedom as she listened to him go on about his plans. He was going to travel a bit, but mostly he planned to explore things he’d always been too busy or too frightened to try before. This weekend, for instance, he was thinking of going bungee jumping. 

“But that’s enough about me,” he concluded. “I want to know about you. What are your dreams?” he asked. 

“Me? Oh... I don’t know,” she sighed. “Haven’t really spent much time thinkin’ about it. Fantasizing about impractical things was never appreciated in my house growing up, what with my Dad having spent every last penny he and Mum made on his daft schemes,” she shared. 

John’s brows furrowed. “Surely you must’ve harboured one or two though, growing up? Secretly?” he said confidentially.

Rose smiled. “Yeah… well, I suppose there is _one_ thing,” she began, her tongue touching her teeth.

“Weelll…” he drawled, obviously waiting for her to give up more.

Then, suddenly bashful, she shook her head. “Nah… you’re gonna think it’s daft. It seems so small compared to your ideas,” she said self-consciously.

John’s thumb began circling the skin on the top of her hand, thoroughly distracting her from what she’d just been thinking about. “Rose… a dream is just that. A dream. No one has the right to judge them, no matter how big or small they may seem,” he smiled supportively.

Biting her lip, she smiled then. What the hell. “Well, I _did_ always wish I could see a musical. You know. A live one,” she clarified, allowing excitement for the idea to permeate her voice. “Sounds silly, but… I always imagined them bein’ sort of… magical, or somethin’. Seein’ people on stage, hearing them singing right in front of you with all the set and costumes and dancin’,” she finished wistfully.

“You’ve never seen a musical?” John said, actually seeming surprised.

Embarrassed indignation flowed through her with the question. Not everyone in London had money for such frivolous things. Just because he was made of cash didn’t mean everyone else was! She was about to say as much when he continued, “Me neither! I thought I was the only one in London who’d never seen one,” he admitted. 

The blustering ire that had been swiftly building abruptly seeped out of her and was replaced by a mental kick in the arse. Who was the one being presumptuous and judgemental right now? It wasn’t him. In fact, he’d done nothing but be a perfect gentleman and hadn’t once made her feel unworthy of being in his company. 

Taking a breath, she finally managed an appropriate comment in response to his honest admission. “Nope. You’re not the only one,” she said, a smile once again finding her lips. 

“Well… here’s to having dreams,” he said, raising his wine glass with his free hand. 

Quickly reaching to take up her own, she lightly clinked the side of her glass with his. “To dreams,” she replied tipping the glass to her lips and draining the rest of the wine.

He did the same and she couldn’t help but stare after the last of the liquid vanishing into his mouth. That bottom lip…

“So… I don’t know about you, but I could use some dessert,” he ventured. 

“Oh… I shouldn’t,” she said, hating that she had to worry about her waistline. 

“Really?” John said, looking a tiny bit disappointed. 

The little pout on his lips tipped her over. And in honesty, as much as she’d enjoyed the ‘meal’, it had been microscopic in scale. Her stomach actually growled at the thought of adding something sweet to top off the evening. “Oh… alright. But if you have to roll me outta here later, just remember that you brought it on yourself,” she warned.

His face brightened. “Fair enough,” he grinned.

The dessert John ordered her was a banana flambe that took her breath away. He’d ordered the same for himself and seemed to savour every morsel. It was almost sinful, the noises he made while devouring the sweet concoction. More than once she had to remind herself not to stare as he licked his lips clean after each bite. 

Finally, with their appetites sated, they left the restaurant and stood outside in the cool night air. The wind was picking up and it tugged at her hair as they took in the evening. “I suppose you probably need to get home,” John said regretfully.

“Yeah. Gotta do inventory in the mornin’ and I should be bright eyed or Cassandra… well, you met her,” she said by way of explanation. 

“Yeah,” he agreed ruefully, still obviously unimpressed with the woman. “Well, I hope she appreciates how good she’s got it, having you there,” he said, sounding a trifle annoyed. “Anyway…” he said, changing the subject, “I’d like to drive you home, if that’s okay,” he suggested, his eyes hopeful. 

Tension played through her. She really didn’t want him seeing where she lived. Not yet. Sure… he knew she worked at Henriks, but she wasn’t quite ready for him to see what sort of neighbourhood she inhabited. “Oh, uh… I’ll just take the tube. It’d be silly for you to drive all the way to my place. I’m good,” she said decidedly.

John looked at her with a concerned stare. “But it’s already dark. I’d feel better if you’d just let me take you home,” he said, almost entreatingly.

Rose bit her lip. Embarrassment warred with her desire to spend even a few more minutes with him. Apparently he took that as a tacit agreement to his proposal. “That settles it, then,” he said happily, reaching a hand out and waggling his fingers in invitation. 

Completely unable to resist, Rose felt her hand slide into his. A delighted smile brightened his face in response and she felt her own reciprocate. Heading back to his car, she couldn’t help but bask in the zing of electric connection passing between them as they walked hand in hand. 

The conversation was light and unsubstantial, with both of them seemingly a bit lost in the feel of their physical connection. Their hands, unfortunately, fell apart with John’s need to use both of his to drive, but that didn’t change the sort of charged aura pulsing between them. It felt palpable. 

As they neared her flat, Rose felt her mood dampen. She supposed it was better to find out now rather than later if her true lot in life really mattered to him or not. Passing graffiti covered walls and littered sidewalks, they finally pulled up to the front of her building. 

Staring up at the building from inside the car, she watched John take it in. Her heart deflated a bit. He was disgusted. Who wouldn’t be? It was a dive. 

Turning to apologize or make an excuse or something, she found herself looking at his back as he climbed from the car. In moments her door opened and his hand was offered for her to take. 

No one she’d ever dated had been such a gentleman, and truth be told, she was honestly a bit taken by surprise by the gallantry. A tiny bit delayed, she reached up to take his hand, allowing herself to be helped from the vehicle. Standing before him, her hand still firmly ensconced in his, she said, “I had a lovely time tonight,” a bit more softly than she’d intended.

“Me too,” he replied just as quietly. “Can I walk you up?” he offered, darting a look at her questionable accommodations.

“Oh… you don’t have to. Safe as houses, this place,” she assured him, her tongue touching her teeth.

His gaze focused on her lips for a fleeting moment before finding her eyes again. He swallowed thickly. The air between them once again grew charged as she studied his dark eyes. Leaning in a bit, she found her own gaze shifting to focus on his incredibly alluring lips. Closing her eyes, she closed the distance between them.

What happened next surprised her. A soft, lingering kiss landed on her cheek. 

Opening her eyes, she looked up into his affectionate gaze. “Good night, Rose,” he said gently, moving his hand up for his thumb to trace her jaw.

She had to admit she was a bit disappointed with the outcome of that particular interaction, but she did her best to hide it. “Good night, John,” she replied, her voice matching his.

Pulling away, he offered her one last lingering look before turning to move back to his car. 

Watching him climb in, she gave him a little wave before turning away from him and walking toward the door of the building. Her body was still humming with the lost promise of a good night kiss, but she immediately justified it as best she could. He was quite a gentleman. Maybe he didn’t snog on the first date. Her experience with blokes could hardly be anything to go by as far as understanding what to expect from someone of his caliber, right? 

Then again… maybe he didn’t _really_ fancy her and she’d just imagined all the fireworks between them. After all… he’d finally seen where she resided… she should’ve expected it might make him turn tail and run. If she’d grown up and lived where he did, she might have done the same. 

Now that she thought of it… he hadn’t mentioned the possibility of seeing her again. Disappointment poured through her. He wasn’t interested. It had been one brilliant, incredible evening, but it was over and reality was about to slap her in the face, wasn’t it?

Part of her chastised herself for such negative thinking, but the larger part of her recognized reality when it reared it’s ugly head. They may have gotten along fine, but when push came to shove, she was just a lowly shop worker from the estate and he was a brilliant Doctor with real breeding. The critical, self deprecating voice in her head took that opportunity to throw the truth in her face. _Let’s face it. You aren’t going to ever hear from him again_.


	5. Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Facing fears is always difficult, but often worth it.
> 
> Enjoy!

### Running Out : Chapter 5 - Baby Steps

Rose’s alarm screamed it’s rude demand to wake up at five bloody o’clock in the morning. Reaching blindly in it’s general direction, she cursed until her fingers met the blessed snooze button and the cruel device quietened. Why the hell had she agreed to this blasted shift again? Oh yeah. Money.

Blurrily climbing from the bed, she plodded into the loo, relieved her aching bladder and brushing her teeth. Gazing into the mirror, she took in her scrumpled appearance. She hadn’t bothered removing her make-up last night and it was now merrily decorating her face in odd places making her look a bit like a racoon clown. Yeah… imagine having John wake up to see _this_. She sighed. Well… it didn’t look like she’d have to worry about _that_ eventuality, at least.

Trying to ignore her depressing thoughts, she jumped in the shower to scrub the remaining date paint from her face and wash her sleep worn hair. The rest of her morning ablutions went by with little thought and before long she was ready to leave. Pulling her bag up onto her shoulder, she grabbed her keys and phone.

To her surprise, there was a text waiting for her. A text? Who would text her at his hour? Realizing who it probably was, she sighed and opened her messages. Her mum had taken to texting her lately when she needed something… but what could she possible want at this hour? 

Frowning, she focused on the number. It wasn’t her Mum’s. It was John’s. At 5:45 in the morning? 

Unbidden, her heart sped up and she quickly opened the message. 

_Morning, Rose! Well, I suppose I should really say, ‘Middle of the night, Rose’! Hope this txt didn’t wake u. Just wanted to tell you I had a wonderful time last night. R u free 4 lunch today? No pressure. U gotta eat, tho, right? I do 2, so we have that in common. Call if you’d like to meet._

A ridiculously hyperactive herd of gazelle galloped through her belly and she actually made a little joyful ‘squeee’-ing sound before childishly bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. He wanted to see her again!

Calming herself a bit, she quickly texted back,

_What r u doing up? I had a great time last night too. I’d love to meet for lunch. Where?_

She pressed send and made her way out the door. If she didn’t get a move on she’d be late and Cassandra would have her head.

Her phone buzzed it’s receipt of a new text.

_Don’t sleep super at night lately. :( How about you pick where this time?_

Rose bit her lip. After considering some options as she walked in the early morning drizzle, she texted,

_Do you like fish and chips?_

She immediately questioned her choice. He was a _doctor_. He probably didn’t eat such nutrient free fare.

In front of her, the train came to a stop as it arrived and as she climbed on just as she received his reply. 

_Love them! :)_

Rose smiled. Okay. Not a health nut. 

_OK, how about Bailey’s on Dawes Road at 1:00. Do u know it?_

The train rolled up to her stop when her phone buzzed once again.

_Sounds good. I’ll be there. See you then!_ he ended with an enthusiastic exclamation point. 

A little thrill shot up her spine. She was going to see him again! Today! She shook her head and gave herself a stern metaphorical kick in the backside for having given herself such a hard time last night about her lot in life. He really didn’t seem to care, so why was she so hell bent on making a big deal of it? 

Because she was embarrassed about it, that’s why. Her Mum had often reminded her of the fact that she should be happy for anything she got because life didn’t get any better than this. This was it. Well… maybe this _wasn’t it_. Maybe she _could_ hope for more. Maybe meeting John was a sign that she should reach for the impossible. After all… dating someone like him had seemed impossible only days ago… and look where she was now. Dating a doctor. And even if it didn’t work out… maybe she shouldn’t just settle for what meager offerings she was given in life. Maybe she needed to reach for the stars.

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

Rose’s shift ended at 12:30 and she quickly freshened up in the staff loo before exiting the building. Bailey’s wasn’t too far from Henrik’s and she hummed happily, enjoying the butterflies floating excitedly in her stomach as she wound her way through the throng of people milling about on their lunch hour. 

The little diner was busy but Rose quickly spied John sitting on a stool facing the window of the chippy. His face lit up when he saw her enter, making the field of winged creatures take flight in her midsection. 

He stood when she neared, offering her the stool next to his along the window. “I, uh… I hope you don’t mind eating on display,” he said, indicating the picture window they both faced. “Everywhere else was taken,” he explained. 

“No… I love it,” she assured him. “It’s perfect.”

Rose ordered the cod and chips and John decided on the calamari, beef and onion pie, and two banana fritters. Rose’s eyes widened a bit on hearing his substantial order. How could such a thin bloke fit so much food in?

Gathering their meals, they settled back in their seats and ate. Rose couldn’t help but give his plate of calamari slightly nauseous glare. How could people eat that stuff?

“Don’t like calamari?” he said, an amused smile tipping the side of his lips up.

“Oh… uh, sorry. Yeah… never tried ‘em, but… they’re _squid_ , yeah? Somehow I can’t get my mind around that,” she shared.

“You’d be surprised, actually. It’s actually quite good, and if it’s cooked well the texture isn’t bad either,” he explained. “Here… try one,” he offered, picking one up with his fork.

Rose eyed the suspect morsel with rising anxiety. She wasn’t a very adventurous eater… her food exploration had pretty much paralleled the banality of the rest of her life, really. But seeing his unabashedly hopeful expression, she pushed her base reaction to the new food aside. She didn’t want to disappoint him. 

Opening her mouth for the approaching fork, she closed her eyes. The deep fried meat touched her tongue and she closed her lips around the utensil to pull it off the tines. Taking a measured breath and pushing the image of a slimy octopus out of her mind, she chewed. 

Working to stay open minded, she really tried to taste it. It was good. It certainly wasn’t going to be her favourite seafood, but… it wasn’t bad at all. The texture also wasn’t one she loved… it was a bit chewy… but it didn’t make her gag like she was afraid it would. 

Opening her eyes, she found John staring unreservedly at her lips. She couldn’t help but stare back at his own… open slightly in amazement. The now familiar crackle of attraction seemed to permeate the air between them. Clearing his throat, John half croaked, “What do you think?”

Swallowing, she nodded, “‘S good. Don’t think it’s gonna be my first choice on the menu, but it’s not bad,” she agreed.

A toothy grin graced his handsome features. “You told me you weren’t adventurous… and here you are trying something new,” he observed. “I think maybe you’re more of a risk taker than you let on,” he shared, conspiratorially. 

Rose blushed. She wasn’t usually… but for some reason, he seemed to encourage it in her. She liked it. 

They finished their meal together chatting about his relationships with Jack and Donna. Apparently John lived with Jack in the house he’d been left by his parents. Of course, his folks had left the place to his sister as well, but she’d moved out when her boyfriend asked her to move in with him. John apparently really liked Lee, who was reportedly quite a taming influence on his fiery sibling. Rose found herself wishing once again that she’d grown up with a brother or sister. Being an only child had its advantages, but she’d always missed the closeness she imagined siblings shared. 

After a while, their meal completed, they left the shop and John once again offered his hand for her to take. A little thrill flew through her with the small gesture. He was enjoying this as much as she was.

They walked a good while before coming to the Thames. In what she was beginning to think of as true ‘Doctor John Style’ he convinced her to partake in an ice cream cone with him from a vendor. He ordered a double scoop with one being black licorice and the other being banana daiquiri. What was it with him and banana flavoured treats? The thought of that particular fruit in ice cream form didn’t do much for her anyway, but the idea of combining that taste with black licorice made her just plain queasy. Oh well… to each his own, she mused as the vendor passed his odd choice over to him. In moments, she too was given her order… chocolate. She was on a roll. No more vanilla. She’d decided she needed to expand her horizons. Granted, she wasn’t quite ready for licorice and banana daquiri, but she was pretty sure she was alright with moving on from vanilla. Life was too short.

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

Their lunch date ended with the Doctor promising to call that night. And he would. Oh yes. The memory of Rose’s tongue peeking out between her white teeth to capture the drip of chocolate ice cream falling down the side of her cone was burned in his mind. She was exquisite. 

He hummed happily as he pulled Jack’s mouldy laundry from the washer. He usually hated finding his cousin’s forgotten loads… how could a man with such an important job… he was bloody regional head of Torchwood Industries for God’s sake… be such an unorganized slob? Still… even finding Jack’s smelly leavings didn’t dampen his spirits. 

Memories of Rose’s beautiful face floated before him as he continued tunelessly recounting some song or other. She made him want to sing. She’d agreed to see him again this weekend. Fluttery giddiness bounced in his stomach in a very unfamiliar way. He’d never been this taken with anyone. 

A nagging little voice used that moment to remind him of his transgression. Weeellll… it wasn’t really a transgression, so much as an… omission. 

He sighed. There was no way to pretty it up. He’d managed to avoid telling her what he should’ve told her. He wasn’t a well man (his conscience gave an exaggerated eye roll with that understatement). But… she would’ve scarpered, he told himself, trying to justify his withholding of the rather critical piece of information about himself. Had their situations been reversed and _she_ had imparted such a depressing bit of news on their second date, he honestly wasn’t sure how he’d have reacted. 

Oh, who was he kidding? He was ashamed to admit it, but if he’d met her two years ago and such a confession had taken place he suspected he’d have been gone so fast her head would’ve been spinning. 

Anyway… it wasn’t like he was never going to tell her. He would… but not right away. A few dates. Just a few more blessed hours with her without having to think about the end. Without having her look at him with pity or gaze at him without thinking about how he was _so young_. That’s all he wanted. Was that too much to ask?

Replacing Jack’s pile of clothes with his own, he started the washer and made his way to his room. He hated to admit it, but he was tiring faster now and he often needed an afternoon kip. 

Overall, as a way of dying, he really couldn’t find much wrong with it. Other than the fact that it did, in fact, end up with him dead… he actually still felt quite well. His heart occasionally raced out of control, making him dizzy, and sometimes he suffered aches in his bones which made him more than just a bit uncomfortable. But for a guy about to kick the bucket, he really couldn’t complain overly much. He suspected the worst of the effects wouldn’t show themselves until closer to his actual passing. At least that was a blessing. 

Laying on his bed, he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting to the experiment that had started the beginning of the end for him. It had seemed so bloody important at the time. Teleportation. It was theoretically possible and he was very close to making it a reality. He’d already managed to send metal objects from point 1 to point B with success, but organic matter… that was another ballgame. It would’ve happened though. It was just a matter of time. But that was the rub, wasn’t it. It was what he’d discovered while tinkering with matter transference that had set the wheels in motion for his demise. And his discovery… it would change the world. In the wrong hands it would change _everything_. It had already changed him. 

He hadn’t told Jack the real reason he’d gotten sick, of course. He still believed, like everyone else, that it was an accidental arton energy leak from the teleportation device that had basically rewritten his cell structure. And he wasn’t about to correct him. No one could know. It was a secret he would keep until his dying day… which was sadly coming much faster than he’d have hoped.

The worst part was that his dying day _didn’t_ have to be so bloody close in coming. If only he’d known earlier that he was sick. If only he’d realized what Dr. Saxon had been up to… 

But… he hadn’t. It was a week after the experiment that he noticed the occasional pains in his legs, and a week after that he became aware of the occasional shiver. It had only been on a routine visit to his GP a few days later that the immensity of his situation gripped him. 

The first sign was that his temperature had dropped. The doctor initially assumed his instruments were faulty and it was only when he used an old fashioned mercury thermometer that it was confirmed. His temperature was four degrees lower than normal. He should’ve been hypothermic, but he wasn’t. Other than having the occasional shiver, his felt warm enough. 

That wasn’t all, though. On top of apparently becoming part polar bear, his heart had mutated. _Mutated_. The stethoscope pressed against his chest confirmed it. Four beats. The doctor wasn’t sure, but he actually mused aloud that it was like his patient had grown another heart. Now _that_ had been comforting.

Unable to make heads or tails of John’s condition, his GP planned to send him for tests. It would require him to take a full day off of work… something he rarely ever did. One day away from his lab. And one bloody day was all it took to write his death certificate. It was that day the Uni decided to complete a random safety audit of his lab. They’d found it contaminated with an ‘unknown toxin’... arton energy… and immediately closed it. 

Why his lab was targeted… he still didn’t know. But he suspected. It had to have been Saxon’s doing. 

Harry Saxon and he had had a long standing rivalry seated in a long history together. They’d attended grade school together and as youngsters had even called each other friends. It was in grad school, however, that they drifted apart. Not only drifted apart though. Circumstances around their proposed combined thesis soured and left Harry bitter and angry. They had been unable to come to consensus on a major point in their hypothesis, leaving them to compete rather than work together. In the end, John’s thesis had been supported and Harry was left uncelebrated. It left him angry and bitter and the two of them only spoke with strictly necessary after that day. Unfortunately, when Harry secured a tenure position at the University, those strictly necessary encounters became more and more frequent. The tension between them was well known around campus and most avoided meetings where both brilliant minds were involved. 

Anyhow, after his lab was closed the administration demanded a review of his entire body of research related to the project. A committee, not surprisingly headed by Dr. Harry Saxon, had been charged with reviewing the integrity of his teleportation equipment and determining it’s worth in terms of use in further research. And he wasn’t to be involved. That was made very clear. He was no longer fit for work, they’d said. 

Renewed anger at the injustice of it all surged through him once again. He knew exactly how he’d gotten sick, and it wasn’t due to the arton energy ‘accidentally’ leaking from his equipment. At least not directly, anyway. He also knew how to make himself better. He needed his lab back. He just couldn’t tell them why. If they knew… if people with fewer scruples than he wrapped their minds around it… then there would be much more at stake than one life. Without an incredibly good reason though, there was no way he was ever going to see that life saving machinery again. As far as they were concerned, it was his incompetence in designing it that had caused his situation in the first place and they weren’t about to let him have access to it again.

So… he either told them of his discovery, gained access to his lab again, and saved his own life… or…the world could go on existing as it had for millions of years. In his eyes, it boiled down to one of these two outcomes. The only way he could save himself was to offer his knowledge up to misuse. It really wasn’t an option. Thus, his predicament and his apparent surrender. He really had no choice.

Closing his eyes, he let his mind settle with the knowledge of that. It was better to know there was nothing else he could do but let time take it’s normal course and lead him to his rest. It was the ultimate sacrifice, but it was the right thing to do. There was no doubt in his mind. 

Images of Rose wearing a cotton shift, walking along a beach somewhere, sandals hanging loosely in her hand, played before him as sleep tugged at his consciousness. With him would die his secret and his world altering discovery wouldn’t be a threat to her very existence. She could walk on white sandy beaches unhindered and safe. He wouldn’t be there to walk with her, but at least she’d still be there… walking for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more datey fluff before the storm. And I'm sorry, friends... but I let my muse out of her room to use the loo and she's run amok. She started small, but she's going to make more of a mess before I catch her, I'm sure. So hang on... (Don't worry, though... I've put away all the sharp implements, so at least there's a good chance there won't be much blood involved...)

### Running Out : Chapter 6 - Next step 

The work week seemed to drag on forever, but her day off finally came and she was about to see ‘Her Doctor’ again, as she was beginning to think of him. John had offered to pick her up from her place and she’d been about to insist on meeting him somewhere else, but before she could get a word in, he shared that he had a surprise planned. She wasn’t about to turn that down, so she agreed to meet him out front at half-three.

His blue Audi rolled up at precisely 3:30 and she slipped in quickly, not wanting him to linger. A car like this in her neighbourhood in the light of day would draw attention and she’d quickly become a fodder for gossip. She could just hear Mrs. Pumlin down the hall whispering to Mrs. Keen behind her back, _“I told you that Tyler girl was one of them ‘call girls’!”_

John, however, seemed to have no awareness of her discomfort and made no immediate move to put the car in drive. “Hi,” he smiled as she climbed in. “Blimey… you look lovely,” he said admiringly.

A blush stole over her as her tongue slid out between her teeth. She’d stewed for a while this morning over what clothes she should wear today, and finally settled on a pair of dark jeans and a form fitting red top. She didn’t often wear this shirt… her mother always told her red was too skanky, but she’d always liked the colour and frankly, she felt sexy in it. “Thanks,” she replied, taking in his more casual choice of a white dress shirt with no tie under a navy blazer paired with jeans. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she grinned. 

It was his turn to look a bit shy, and she took immense joy in seeing that in him. He had every right to be completely full of himself for his looks… he was a treat to look at, that’s for sure… but he didn’t seem to be that way at all. She found it incredibly endearing.

Suddenly reminded why she’d hoped they’d get a move on, she looked nervously around outside the car to find a few passers by blatantly ogling John’s expensive ride. 

“Um… we should…” she started, nodding a bit too urgently to the road ahead of them.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” he said, seemingly a bit taken aback with her sudden need to leave.

She made no effort to explain herself as they pulled away from the curb, and inwardly she sighed in relief as the distance widened between them and her apartment building.

“Ex-boyfriend spying on you or something?” John ventured, darting her a look as they drove.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“You seemed anxious to get away from your place… is there something wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, uh…” How could she explain? _I look like a hooker sitting in a posh car like this._ Yeah, that would go over well. “No… I’m just excited to see what you have planned,” she said lightly, trying to cover her earlier anxiety. “What _do_ you have planned, anyway?” she asked in an effort to change the subject. 

John seemed unsure of her response, but obviously decided to let it go for now. “Weeeellll… I was thinking of spending the day downtown… maybe walking along the Thames?”

Rose shot him a sidelong glance and narrowed her eyes.

“What?” he asked, all innocence.

“You’re hiding something. There’s something else, isn’t there?” she asked, sensing he was holding back some critical piece of information.

“What makes you think that?” he said, continuing his facade of indignance at being questioned in such a way.

“Just… you. You’re not telling me something,” she challenged, a smile creeping onto her lips.

A deep shadow passed over his features for a couple of moments, but it was quite quickly replaced by an overly cheery smile. “Maybe. You’ll see,” he shared.

Rose hummed a questioning reply while her mind worked on the sudden change in his countenance. It was like… someone had walked over his grave. She’d jokingly accused him of withholding information… could he be thinking about his parents? Had he not told her something about their passing?

Shaking her head, she tried to let go of the thought. It wasn’t her business. If he eventually wanted to talk about it, he would. Heaven knows, she had a few secrets she’d rather he didn’t find out just yet.

It wasn’t long before they found a car park and began to amble along The Queen’s Walk lining the bank of the Thames. John once again offered his hand and she took it without reservation, enjoying the feel of his cool hand in hers. Now that she thought of it… his skin was _really_ cold. Pulling the hand she was holding up to cup between both of her warmer ones, she rubbed at it vigorously. John looked at her a bit startled by her sudden abuse of his appendage. “‘M tryin’ to warm you up. You’re hand is freezin’!” she explained, blowing a warm breath onto his cool digits. 

“Oh… yeah. Bad circulation,” he said, sounding a bit embarrassed. What he was embarrassed about, she wasn’t sure. It’s not like having cold hands was anything to be ashamed of. After a minute of work on the left one, she ducked around him to grab his right hand in both of hers and gave it the same attention as they walked. He didn’t seem to mind her blatant excuse to touch him a bit more than was strictly necessary, and in fact, he seemed to like it, if the little smile on his lips was anything to go by.

They continued walking for a while and before long they were both looking up at the London Eye. It really was quite a feast for the eyes at night, but during the day it just looked ominous… especially from this angle… standing practically beneath it. 

John squeezed her hand a bit more tightly for a moment, pulling her attention from the looming structure. “Ever been?” he asked, looking back up at the massive Ferris wheel. 

Rose swallowed. Nope. Nooooo way. Nuh-uh. She didn’t actually say any of that out loud, though. “I, uh… I’m not much for heights, actually,” she admitted, her eyes creeping back up to regard the swinging baskets way up in the air.

John regarded her with something akin to awe. 

“What?” she asked, realizing he was studying her.

“Well… it’s just that… no. Never mind. It’s fine,” he said, looking back up at the tall structure.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. Really. We should… you getting hungry?” he asked, looking around.

“No really. What were you gonna say?” Rose said, not letting him change the topic. He apparently had an opinion he wasn’t sharing.

John’s eyes met hers, and obviously reconsidering sharing his thoughts with her he said, “I’m just a bit amazed at you, is all. I mean… if you’re scared of heights… I honestly can’t believe you managed to be in one mental piece after that coaster ride. I mean… there were some serious drops. On top of that, you were in the first car,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m just… I’m proud of you, that’s all. I didn’t realize what kind of fears you were facing,” he said honestly.

Rose was speechless. She hadn’t been sure what he’d been holding back, but she’d obviously wrongly assumed it would be a criticism. After all… she’d only ever been chastised by her friends for her lack of adventure and fearful nature. Even her Mum didn’t really understand. Once again, this man surprised her in the best way possible.

“Thanks,” she said quietly in response, her appreciation for his empathy seeping into the word. Her eyes stung as she held tears at bay.

His lips curled up with unabashed affection. “You don’t have to thank me for being a bit in awe of you,” he assured her, the warmth in his eyes reflecting her own. “Now. Want to find somewhere to eat? I could use a big basket of chips right about now,” he suggested, looking around them again.

Rose’s eyes inched up to regard the wheel once more. It looked immense from here. But really… it couldn’t be _that_ high. It wasn’t like it was taller than the coaster she’d nearly died on, right? 

She felt a tug on her hand but resisted being pulled away. Above her, the baskets full of brave passengers tilted and swayed in the afternoon breeze. 

“Rose?” John’s voice permeated her narrowing focus.

“I wanna go on it,” she heard her own voice say.

“What?”

Dropping her eyes to look at him, she repeated, “I wanna go on it. The Eye. Can we?” she said, her voice sounding leagues braver than she felt.

John stared at her for a moment, studying her eyes… possibly for signs of madness. “Rose… you don’t have to,” he assured her.

“I know. I… I want to. Sort of,” she said, her confidence beginning to waver. 

John nodded. “Look… I’m already quite amazed by your bravery. You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he said, obviously not wanting her to feel like she somehow owed him something.

Pasting an artificial smile on her face, she turned to face the wheel once again. Taking a deep breath, she began walking toward the queue, encouraging John to follow with a tug of his hand. She didn’t want to talk about it. If she talked about it, she wouldn’t do it. She needed to do it.

Standing in the queue, Rose held John’s hand a bit more tightly than normal, but he didn’t say anything about it. Inching forward with the filling of each passenger capsule, Rose and John neared the front of the line almost too quickly. 

Rose’s hands grew clammy as she watched the last encapsulated room pull away from the platform for the next one take its place. The attendant ushered the group of fifteen of so people ahead of them forward and encouraged her and John to do the same. The problem was… she couldn’t. Her feet had frozen to the spot. Not realizing her predicament, John started moving only to find her immobile. Stepping back beside her quickly, he leaned into her. “Rose… you really don’t have to do this, you know,” he nearly whispered. 

The people following them were growing impatient as was the pretty female attendant. A muffled, “Come ooooon…” groaned from a man somewhere behind them.

“Rose…” John said softly, wrapping his arm supportively around her shoulder.

As much as the other customer’s impatience nearly broke her resolve to go through with this, John’s soft voice seemed to galvanize her. Despite her thudding heart, she took a tentative step forward. “I can do this,” she said, more for her benefit than for his.

“Of course you can,” John agreed, taking her hand again as she trudged ahead, being careful not to glance upward.

Her feet finally crossed the threshold of the container and she took in her new surroundings. The walls of the capsule were glass from floor to ceiling and in the middle of the room a low, oval shaped, slatted wooden bench offered unrestrained seating. Heading directly for the proffered resting place, she lowered herself tensely. 

John sat next to her, transferring her clasped hand to hold in his other one so he could wrap his free arm around her shoulder. Wanting to, but unable to lean into him, she sat stock still, trying to remember to breathe. Her heart was pounding and she was pretty sure she was dying. 

John began rubbing soft circles over the fabric of her shirt. “Close your eyes and concentrate on my voice, Rose,” he instructed calmly. Once her eyes were closed, he said, “Let’s see. I could tell you a story. Or… no, maybe I should share a deep dark secret with you,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

Rose took a shallow breath in and tried to concentrate on the soft movement of his hand on her shoulder. “Remember that chippy we ate at? Bailey’s? Well… I have a confession to make,” he said lowly. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might’ve heard a smidgen of guilt seeping through his otherwise calm voice. “I’d never had calamari before that day either. Jack had told me what it tasted like, as much as anyone can explain a taste, so I sort of knew what to expect. That’s the only reason I could describe it to you. Basically… we were both squid virgins. I guess you could say we both lost our squidginity! Oooo… that didn’t sound right,” he cringed.

Opening her eyes, she rounded on him. “Wait a minute… you made me take the first bite!” she smiled despite herself. 

“Yeah… guess I did, didn’t I? Still… you said it wasn’t bad. I took that as a good sign that it was safe for me to try it as well,” he grinned cheekily.

“Oh, you!” she laughed, slapping him soundly on the arm. 

Feigning great pain, he pulled away from her. “Oi! Careful! I bruise easily,” he complained, rubbing his injured arm. Rose giggled some more. 

“Rose, look…” John’s voice whispered in her ear. 

Turning her head, she realized where they were. The car had ascended and was rising even further into the sky. The fear she’d been nursing earlier bloomed in her chest once again and she slammed her eyes closed. “It’s okay,” she heard John soothe beside her. “Breathe,” he advised.

Taking his direction, she purposefully pulled in a breath and released it slowly. “Good,” he said supportively, once again circling his palm over her the tense plains of her back.

Concentrating on the relaxing movement of his hand, she chanced opening her eyes again. From her static seat on the bench, she looked straight out the window wall before her. The sky filled her vision. It was a deepening blue, which was a nice change from its usual grey, and pale puffy clouds highlighted the air beyond the enclosed pod. She felt the capsule rock in the wind, making her grasp the slatted wood beneath her. 

For a moment she wondered how people regularly challenged the skies. Being a pilot or, God forbid, a skydiver… how did they do it without going mad? Could anyone ever get used to feeling so separate from the earth beneath them?

Chancing a turn of her head, she found John looking out of the clear glass pane at the same sky she’d been staring at. His face reflected his apparent reverence for it. He really seemed to be taking in every minute detail of the scene before him. 

Turning her own eyes back toward the sky, she tried to see what he was seeing. What had him so enthralled? 

The sun was beginning to set now and the horizon held bright oranges and the begins of pinks. It really was quite beautiful. Allowing her eyes to drop slightly, she suddenly became aware that the world below was rising to meet them. Thankfully… blessedly… slowly. They were now over the crest and were beginning their descent. 

“You okay?” John said softly, his hand stilling.

“Yeah. I am,” she said, the words surprising even her.

John nodded, his eye crinkling slightly with his supportive smile. “Uh… would you mind if I...?” he said, indicating he’d like to get up and get a better look.

“Oh… no. Go ahead, I’m fine,” she encouraged, putting on a brave face.

Leveling her an assessing look, he finally nodded, satisfied she was telling the truth.

Getting up, he stretched his long legs and moved to stand before the thin sheet of glass that was the only thing standing between him and the open air. Rose found her breath catching as she watched him near the see through barrier, but she worked to keep breathing as normally as possible. He’d be fine. He was fine. Very fine, indeed. 

As he stood there, his hands deep in his jean pockets, looking intently across the expanse of colourful sky, she could help but admire his form. He was lean and tall and in those jeans he looked… incredible. A pang of longing dug deep in her abdomen. What she wouldn’t give to be able slip behind him and wrap her arms around his midsection. Slide herself up to push tightly against his back while her hands roamed over his chest and around to cup that magnificent arse. 

Sliding her eyes up from his bum, she found him quite lost in the view. But it was more than that. His brow was furrowed as he looked far far away across the expanding heavens before him. His eyes were glazed over and suddenly he looked so small. So vulnerable. He seemed… lost.

Without thinking, she stood and crossed to stand beside him, her hand finding his back. “Penny for ‘em?” she said softly.

He started with her touch, but quickly recovered, his eyes locking with hers. “I, uh… just checked out there for a mo. I do that,” he admitted, his expression still holding a remnant of the sadness it held moments ago. Suddenly his eyes lit up. “Oi! Look at you!” he marvelled. 

“What?” she said, looking down at herself in alarm. 

Pulling his hand from his pocket, he took her hand in his and directed her gaze outward. Suddenly she realized was standing confidently beside the window of doom and she had barely registered it. The capsule was actually much closer to the ground now, but even at this lower altitude the cars and people below looked quite small. 

A bubble of laughter escaped her, even as she clasped John’s hand a little tighter. She’d done it. She’d survived another near death experience. Not only had she survived it, she’d actually stared at it head on! Giddy happiness bloomed in her. “I did it,” she breathed, still staring out at the world before her.

From the corner of her eye she caught John looking at her with what she thought might be pride. “Yes, Rose Tyler. You certainly did.”


	7. Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I loved writing this chapter. Not sure why, but it was a very fulfilling one to get down on 'paper' so to speak. Anyway... allons-y!

### Running Out : Chapter 7 - Pretend

John threw his keys into the glass jar by the door and hummed as he made his way to the kitchen. It was late evening now and he’d just dropped Rose off at her place again.

He really didn’t like simply leaving her at the front door of her building, but she seemed really adverse to having him walk her up to her flat, so he didn’t push it. It was a terrible idea anyway… seeing her up to her flat. What if she invited him in? He couldn’t very well take her up on it. He hadn’t told her yet about his ‘problem’, after all. _You mean your impending demise?_ his cruel conscience threw in his face. Yeah… that. 

He came close tonight. He really did. After Rose’s success on the Eye today he’d suggested treating them to a proper meal in celebration. She’d happily agreed to the idea and they spent a while meandering the streets in search of a restaurant. She’d insisted on eating somewhere she could actually read the menu, and John appreciated the sentiment. He never really liked those hoity-toity places like they’d gone to on their first date. He just honestly thought she _would_. He really should’ve known it would make her uncomfortable, just as it usually made him. Oh well… live and learn. Wow… that statement had quite a new meaning now, he considered glumly. 

Anyhow… he’d been close to telling her in the restaurant and again later during the ‘surprise’ part of their date, but she seemed to be so happy, and he really didn’t want to ruin the day with his admittedly depressing news, so he decided it could wait. Again.

That precluded the possibility of allowing himself to get much closer to her, though. Physically, at least. He could hardly help it if he was falling head over heels for this brilliant woman, but he _could_ help snogging her. Maybe… if she didn’t head for the hills the minute he imparted his sick secret… she’d let him steal a kiss once she knew. To snog her before that… it wouldn’t be fair to her. 

OoOoOoOoOoO

Rose leaned back on the wood of her closed door. Until minutes before he left her at the end of the day, it had all been… wonderous. After living through the second most frightening moment of her life, John had taken her for dinner. She’d suggested they find somewhere with a slightly more down to earth menu than they’d experienced on their first date, and they’d ended up at Gillray’s Steakhouse. It was a pricier place than she’d had in mind when she’d made the suggestion. Payday wasn’t for another couple of days and she was getting rather desperately low on funds, so the discovery was rather unwelcome. On suggesting they find somewhere else he’d quickly poo-pooed the idea. Obviously aware she’d been studying the prices too closely, he assured her this was his treat… a celebration of her bravery. Unwilling to douse his offer in cold water, she agreed. 

The food had been wonderful and the conversation even better, but at about half-six he glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. “Oops! We, uh… we should go,” he said a bit urgently. 

“Something happening soon?” she asked with unhidden curiosity while gathering her purse. 

John smiled. “Always with the questions, Rose Tyler,” he playfully admonished, extending his hand for her to take.

Paying the cheque on the way out, they emerged onto the street and made their way back to the car park. The evening air was a bit chilly, making Rose wish she’d worn a jacket. Before she even noticed him taking it off, John had wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. She’d tried to give it back, but he insisted he really didn’t need it. ”I’m impervious to cold,” he’d said. “I could be the next big superhero… ‘Polar Man’,” he’d boasted. Given the fact he seemed to have icicles for hands, she almost believed it. 

He’d refused to tell her where they were headed as they drove, his hand moving from the stick shift to settle on her knee whenever they hit a constant speed. His touch sparked pinpricks of electricity in her skin, making her wish more than anything that they were tucked in a dark corner somewhere so she could push her lips to his.

The drive wasn’t long and Rose soon found herself being pulled up the steps of a regal looking University building. “Where are we?” she asked, darting him an inquisitive look.

John waggled his eyebrows mischievously. “You’ll find out. Come on,” he encouraged, leading her up the stairs. 

A few people milled around inside the building but John moved with purpose. Finally, coming to a large door, he leaned in conspiratorially, “This is it.” His breath tickled her ear, making her shiver. 

Opening the door, he ushered her inside, his hand on the small of her back. Rose’s breath caught. The large round room was domed above them and in the centre sat a massive quite modern looking telescope. The rounded ceiling was opened where the enormous instrument aimed it’s magnifying eye out toward the stars. “John…” she breathed, taking it in. 

“I know. Quite an amazing piece of machinery,” he agreed, gazing at it in appreciation. Letting go of her hand, he made his way to the computer on the far end of the room. Rose took the opportunity to circle the incredible invention, trying to make sense of its construction. She knew nothing about telescopes or stargazing, but she couldn’t help but be impressed with this creation, even if it was simply because of the size of it.

“The dean is a friend of mine… he managed to book the telescope for me for an hour,” he shared, typing something on the keyboard before him. 

“Wow,” was all Rose could think of to say. The most important person she knew, and only because Mickey’s Gran introduced them when she was a kid, was the owner of the Prince Charles Cinema. Thanks to Mickey’s celebrity connection, they had gotten into see free movies a few times as kids. Her brush with power could hardly be compared to John’s fancy contact, though. 

“Alright… should be ready to have a peek through now. Shall we?” John offered, waving her over. 

Eagerly, she made her way over to John’s side. The massive machine culminated in a narrow eyepiece which was angled toward the floor. Kneeling down, John moved directly under the instrument to place his eye at the opening of the stalk. A slow smile creeped over his features. He shook his head minutely in amazement. “Incredible,” he breathed. 

After a moment, he pulled his eye away and waved her to join him under the apparatus. Kneeling beside him, he encouraged her into the correct position by gently manipulating her by the shoulders, his body pressed against her side.

His proximity sent a curl of need through her that landed directly in her centre. They both paused as the energy between them momentarily bewitched them into immobility. She felt her heart quicken and she was sure she felt his breath ghost against her neck. 

“The, uh… that’s the Orion nebula,” he explained, his voice slightly raspy, his body still pressed against hers.

Squinting into the eyepiece, she made out the pinpoints of yellow light surrounded by a thready, reddy-orange gaseous cloud. “My God…” she whispered, the sight momentarily distracting her from John’s proximity.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he sighed, his voice soft in her ear. 

“Beautiful,” she agreed, almost robbed of words.

“Beautiful… “ he repeated softly, his voice a deep rumble as his finger gently shifted a tendril of hair from her shoulder.

An aroused shudder moved through her with his touch. Thoroughly distracted from the celestial body she’d been looking at, she turned her head toward the man who had her more enthralled than the stars above. 

His lips were near. His dark eyes seemed to bore into her own. They were so close…

And that’s when he pulled away, clearing his throat. “I, er… I wanted to show you the Dumbbell nebula as well,” he suddenly injected, quickly moving to scramble back to the computer. 

Rose’s body nearly sagged in unsatisfied want and she tried to get her breathing under control. “Oh… yeah… sounds good,” she offered, trying not to sound desperately affected.

John continued showing her clusters of stars and kept on sharing bits of interesting information about them until their time in the room was up. He seemed to purposefully avoid getting so close to her again.

He’d driven her home after that, chatting animatedly all the way back about the various star clusters they’d both gazed at, and the night ended much like their first date had… with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Now, hugging her purse to her chest, her back pressed against the door of her flat, she tried to reason out his trepidation. Because really… there was no way she had imagined the mutual attraction tonight. The stars through the telescope had been mesmerizing, but both of them had been more enamoured of each other than of the heavenly bodies above… she was sure of it. And while he’d been holding back at the Observatory, she thought for sure he’d make up for it when he dropped her off at the end of the evening. Now, left once again thoroughly un-snogged, she couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt that he didn’t seem to want to kiss her. Lord knows she wanted to snog him within an inch of his life. She wasn’t imagining the chemistry between them… at least she was pretty sure she wasn’t. So if he actually felt something for her… what was holding him back?

Moving deeper into her flat, she placed her bag on the table and sighed deeply. Maybe he’d been really hurt in a previous relationship. Lord knows she could understand that. It had taken a while to feel comfortable with having a physical relationship with Mickey after Jimmy had… 

But that was different. Or… maybe it wasn’t. She’d heard of men being abused by their girlfriends. Or maybe he’d been hurt as a child? The thought made her feel ill. 

_Or maybe he’s just not interested in having that with you,_ her unkind psyche supplied. She pushed that thought aside. No… he definitely seemed interested. It was something… else. 

Well… if he needed time, that was alright. She could wait. Every single other thing about him made her giddy. She was falling for him in a very big way. Maybe she should talk to him about it though. I mean… maybe not just yet. But if one more date went by at arms length, she’d consider it, if for no other reason than to soothe her tender ego.

OoOoOoOoOoO

John woke to quite incredible pain deep in his legs that spread to encompass the bones in his hips. Hissing a breath in, he reached blindly for his pill bottle. Finding it on his bedside table, he threw the lid aside to dig out a couple of the painkillers. Tossing his head back he swallowed them dry and laid back heavily, squeezing his eyes shut while willing the pain to abate. 

A knock issued at his bedroom door and it opened without his blessing. “Hey, Doc… I’m going...” Jack’s voice floated in. “Oh, God… Doc are you okay?” John felt the side of the bed dip under Jack’s weight. 

“Just… Oooooh,” John moaned, the pain more intense than he’d felt it before. 

“We should get you to the hospital,” Jack said decidedly.

“No!” John barked, his eyes flying open. He didn’t want to spend any time lying in a hospital bed when he had so little of it left. “No… I’ll be fine, Jack,” he said a bit more softly. “Just… give me a minute,” he grunted.

Jack looked at him dubiously but didn’t say anymore. After a short while the pain began to recede. John felt his breath start to even out as the ache died away. 

“Look… I was about to tell you that I have a meeting scheduled this morning with the University,” Jack shared.

“What for?” John asked, brows furrowed as he willed his body to relax.

“What do you think?” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “To get you access to your equipment. You said you know how to fix it, right? Your condition? And I don’t know if I really believe that, Doc, but I know you do. And God knows the doctors have no idea what to do with you,” he acknowledged. 

John sighed. Jack meant well, but even the head of Torchwood Industries wasn’t going to get anywhere with Harold Saxon. Oh well… it couldn’t hurt. And then maybe Jack might acknowledge the futility of the fight. 

“Alright, Jack. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up,” John warned him. “Harry isn’t going to just open his arms to welcome me back. And he’s got the Dean in his back pocket, so to speak.”

Jack nodded. “Well, what he doesn’t know is that Torchwood has something the University wants and this may just tip the scales in our favour,” Jack shared with a wink. “Anyway… you rest,” he advised him as he stood and moved to the door. “Oh… and what’s this about dinner tomorrow night?” Jack asked pulling a note out from his coat pocket.

John shifted to make himself more comfortable now that his legs could move easily again. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” John shared. “You free?” 

Jack’s eyebrows rose to somewhere near his hairline. “A girl?” he asked playfully.

“Jack…”

Jack laughed. “Hey… I’m not one to judge, Doc. Yeah sure, I’ll be here. Donna coming?” he asked, his interest obviously piqued. 

“I’ve asked her to,” John informed him. “But listen… she doesn’t know. My friend, I mean. So… let’s just keep the conversation light,” he advised his cousin.

Jack’s eyes narrowed but his expression cleared quickly. “Yeah, okay, Doc. Whatever you say,” he agreed. “You should definitely warn Donna, though. You know she has no filter,” Jack warned. 

He was right. If anyone might let it slip it would be Donna. “Yeah, I will,” he said, nodding in agreement as Jack closed the door behind him.

For the fourth or fifth time since suggesting get-together yesterday he thought about cancelling. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking, suggesting it in the first place, really. The idea of Rose meeting his family… it just seemed right. Like it needed to happen. At least he felt that way when he’d first thought of the idea. Now though… now he wasn’t so sure it had been the smartest proposal he’d ever made. What was to come of it, anyway? _’Hey, come meet my family so you have someone to sit next to at the funeral!’_ Yeah. It was a fantastic plan. On top of that, the last thing he wanted was for Rose to find out about his condition by having his overprotective sister blurt it out at tea. Maybe he really should cancel.

_No… what you really should do is tell her the truth,_ his conscience picked. As much as he hated the busybody angel on his shoulder, he had to give it credit for being right. Maybe he should just put it all out there to let the cards fall where they may.

A sort of nauseous fear bubbled in him with the thought. The thought of Rose turning away from him… excluding him from her life for the remainder of his… it made him ache in a way that his earlier pain seemed trivial. 

What if he just… didn’t tell her? What if he just lived out the rest of his life in denial. What if he just let her find out when he himself had no choice but to face it himself? 

The idea was wrong and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from really truly considering it. Would she ever forgive him? Once he was gone, would she hate him forever? That idea sat very wrongly with him. It wasn’t what he wanted. Maybe though… maybe he could make it right posthumously? Was that even a possibility? Oh, but he wanted that. He wanted to just _live_ while he was still alive. He wanted to forget the end was so close. Maybe he deserved that one thing from the universe. He’d make it up to her. He’d make sure he made amends in some spectacular way. All he wanted in exchange was to pretend. He wanted to just… bask in the brilliance Rose exuded and pretend his life was just beginning.


	8. The Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “But this is a ROMANCE! A _ROMANCE_ ” I told my muse. She laughed. Hard.

### Running Out : Chapter 8 - The Test

Rose got off the tube at Highgate and made her way through the posh neighbourhood taking in the expensive houses she passed with increasing discomfort. The lawns and gardens were quite exquisitely kept and the cars parked out front of more than a few of them cost more than her flat would. Wow. He lived in this neighbourhood.

It was a half mile walk to his house and one she sort of needed. The idea of meeting John’s family was a bit nerve wracking, especially now that she’d actually seen where they lived. He seemed to be a bit… was it clueless?... about her station in life, but what if his family wasn’t? What if they thought she was just some chav? What if they assumed she was just after his money or something?

Finally on his street, she looked for the house numbers and spotted what must be his place a couple doors up. It was one of the more modest places along the row, but still incredibly impressive with it’s large two car garage and huge front yard. She suddenly became even more aware how much she didn’t belong here. Surely the neighbours were looking out thinking the cleaning lady had arrived late.

The glass etched double front doors of the house were outlined in a deep blue painted wood, making them stand out from the rest of the red brick home. Approaching them, she took in the slightly neglected hedges and the handful of flyers littering the ground outside the door. Seemed John and Jack weren’t the most fastidious blokes. Her insides untwisted a bit. Maybe they weren’t as uptight as their neighbours. 

Taking a cleansing breath, she smoothed her (hopefully) flattering cream coloured jumper and bravely knocked on the frame of the unique door. Footsteps approached from inside and a shadow of a man blocked the warm light filtering through the glass on the door to the right. It opened to reveal a handsome, dark haired, blue eyed bloke. 

“Uh… hi. I’m Rose,” she said a bit nervously.

“Rose! Hi… I’m Jack,” he said, grinning widely offering his hand. Reaching out she tried to shake it, but he instead grasped her hand and pulled it to his lips. “ _Very_ pleased to meet you,” he assured her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her captured fingers. 

A surprising warmth spread through her with the gesture. No one had ever kissed her hand before. She could certainly see what John had been talking about when he’d mentioned that Jack was quite the ladies’ man. 

From behind him, John emerged, unapologetically pushing his way through to dislodge her hand from Jack’s.

“Just saying ‘hi’, Doc,” he said brightly, his eyes not leaving Rose’s.

“Yeah… well, don’t,” John said only half-jokingly. Jack didn’t seem to take the directive personally at all and merely shot Rose a playful wink before turning to disappear back into the belly of the house. 

“Hi, Rose,” John said affectionately before leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on her cheek.

Rose’s heart picked up it’s beat with his proximity. To say she fancied him was a massive understatement, she thought wryly. If she was honest, she’d have to admit she was actually completely at his mercy when he got anywhere close to her.

Finally able to access the speech centre of her brain she let out a throaty, “Hi,” in response.

“Can I take your coat?” he asked, holding his hand out for it.

“Oh, sure,” she agreed, allowing him to help her peel her arms from the sleeves of the purple jacket.

As he hung it up she looked around. The place was honestly quite breathtaking in its construction. Above the entryway the ceiling rose to reach the top of the second floor. Before her, the large foyer branched off to lead to different parts of the house. 

“Donna’s in the kitchen… I’ve got the worst of the cooking done now… all we have to do is wait for the roast to be done,” he explained, encouraging her to follow him. “I hope you like peppercorn sauce,” he worried aloud. “I should’ve asked you.”

“No, I love it,” she assured him. In reality, she’d never tried it, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. He seemed so eager to make sure she approved. She’d just _have_ to like it.

They emerged from the foyer and into the spacious honey coloured kitchen to find Jack pouring a ruby red liquid into four wine glasses. To his left, sitting on a bar stool at a high counter, was a long haired red headed woman who Rose had no doubt was Donna. 

Rose could see John was about to say something, but he was cut off by Donna who had climbed from her perch to welcome Rose with a light hug. “Hello, Rose,” she said with a kind smile. “I’m Donna… this twig’s sister,” she elaborated.

“Oi!” John exclaimed. “Do we need to start in already with the name calling?” he said with mock hurt.

“Oh shut it. You _are_ a twig. I’m sure she’s already noticed anyhow,” Donna said by way of explanation, giving John a playful nudge.

Rose felt her earlier trepidation slip away a bit. Donna seemed quite down to earth. “‘S nice to meet you, Donna,” Rose returned, smiling with the friendly welcome. “John’s told me a lot about you,” she shared.

“Well, I’m sure most of it’s not true,” she said, darting John a suspicious look. “And if he told you that it was me who burned the shed down that time… he’s lying. Just so you know,” she clarified.

“That _was_ you, Donna,” John interjected. “Anyway, I’ve only said brilliant things about you,” giving Rose a conspiratorial wink before shooting Donna an overly pleasant grin.

Donna’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “That better be true, Spaceman, or I’m pullin’ out the baby books,” she warned.

John’s hands flew up in surrender and Rose laughed. Seems these two had a rapport much like she’d imagined by his descriptions. It was very clear they cared deeply for each other despite their argumentative banter. 

“Anyway, Rose,” Donna continued, “I hope you like wine, ‘cause you’ll need it once we get Spaceman here talking,” she said conspiratorially, handing her one of the glasses Jack had just poured. 

“Oh… yeah, I do, actually. Thanks,” Rose said graciously, accepting the glass. Taking a tentative sip, she rolled it around in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. The wine was deeply flavoured and rich tasting but not harsh at all, unlike the wine she and her Mum usually drank on movie nights.

“Okay… I’m actually standing right here, you know,” John said, sounding a trifle put out. “And I don’t talk _that much_.”

One of Donna’s eyebrows quirked up in questioning amazement. “Uh… sure. Whatever you say, ‘Chatty Man’,” she quipped. “This one was _born_ talking, our Mum used to say… an’ I believe it,” she assured Rose. “Used to get kicked out of primary school for his neverending gob goin’ on about asteroids and chemicals and the like,” she added.

“Um… again… I’m standing _right here_.”

Donna waved him away and took a deep pull of her wine. 

The evening continued on much as it started, with the conversation coming easily and with the wine flowing. The meal had been amazing. It seemed John was really quite something in the kitchen. It was only after tea when they all sat in the living room that Jack pointed out that he himself had no skills that way. Apparently it seemed John did a good amount of the cooking around their place and if it weren’t for him they’d be eating take away most days. 

Sitting next to ‘the cook’ on the plush couch, Rose rather bashfully admitted that she was more like Jack was in that regard. Her cooking skills were generally limited to preparing anything that was sold in box form. It was John’s next comment that stopped her dead. 

“That’s alright. I don’t mind being the chef in the relationship,” he said lightly, reaching his hand out to take hers.

Rose’s eyes widened and locked with his. What she found gazing back was pure adoration. A very distinct zing of unbidden excitement sparked through her with the comment. Granted, they’d all had a bit to drink at this point in the evening, but it was clear he thought this was actually going somewhere. For a moment, she actually felt giddy.

A throat cleared somewhere in the room and Rose was instantly reminded that they weren’t actually alone. 

Looking over, she found Donna giving John a pointed look. John seemed to notice it as well, and purposely let go of her hand. 

Whatever the look was for, it was quite clear Donna didn’t approve of something and John obvious took it seriously. But… what didn’t she approve of exactly? Him holding her hand? The very idea of him getting serious with her? 

It struck her then. Maybe Donna didn’t really like her. Maybe she didn’t think Rose was good enough for him. She hadn’t gotten that impression so far tonight, but maybe the obvious sign of affection… holding hands with him… had really made it hit home that this ‘new girlfriend’ wasn’t up the family standards. A swell of disappointment sloshed through her. 

Pulling her hands tightly into her lap, she looked down tensely. Maybe she should go. Yeah… that would probably be best. 

About to gather her courage to make her excuses, she suddenly found John’s arm coming up to rest around her shoulder. Turning, she caught his eyes purposefully catching Donna’s across the room. His arm tightened a bit and he pulled her a bit closer so she couldn’t help but lean into him.

Another bewilderingly strong jolt of attraction and joy leapt through her with this possessive show. He was informing his sister that he wanted this. He wanted _her_. And while the happiness of that thought played in her veins, she couldn’t help but feel badly. She didn’t want to create any sort of disagreement between him and Donna. In fact, she quite hated the idea. Despite what Donna might think of her, she found she quite liked the woman. She was likely just looking out for her brother, making sure he wasn’t being taken advantage of. She could appreciate that. 

After a few more moments of tension, Donna offered, “So Rose… has my brother told you about any of the research he was doing at the University?”

Beside her she could almost feel John bristle.

“Um, no,” she said, looking at John.

He swallowed visibly, obviously uncomfortable with the topic. “Oh… I don’t think Rose’d be interested in all that rubbish,” he said in an attempt to brush off the comment.

“No, really, John. You should tell her,” Donna said, now quite pointedly.

John smiled tightly. “Maybe another time,” he said, seemingly speaking directly to his sister before taking a long sip of his wine.

Rose wasn’t sure what exactly was really being said between them, but it was obvious there was a lot more to the topic than chat about his chosen area of study. What that had to do with Donna’s apparent discomfort with her and John together, she wasn’t sure.

Suddenly Jack slapped his knees and stood. “I could sure use another glass of wine. Anyone else?” he said, his manner overly cheery.

The tension between John and Donna was quite palpable now, and Rose honestly couldn’t take another moment of it. “Um… I’ll help you with that,” Rose offered, shifting from John’s side to stand as well. 

“Great! Now that’s the kind of company I appreciate,” Jack said waggling his eyebrows at her. 

That seemed to gather John’s attention away from whatever was percolating between him and Donna. “Jack…” he warned.

“Come on, Rose,” Jack said, offering his arm. Rose looked back at John who was now rolling his eyes. Assuming John didn’t really mind, she slipped her arm through Jack’s and they made their way to the kitchen leaving the siblings alone in the living room.

Jack made it to the counter and reached for an unopened bottle waiting there. Pulling the corkscrew up to push it into the cork, he began unstopping the bottle.

“So… what was that about, then?” Rose asked a bit tentatively. It was quite clear, after all, that Jack hadn’t found that interaction particularly normal either.

Looking up, Jack offered her a reluctant smile. “Yeah… they, uh… they have some things to work out, those two,” he finally said. 

“Oh,” was all Rose could think of to say. Jack poured fresh wine into his glass and reached out to take hers. 

“Oh… I think I should probably…” she paused, “... maybe I should go,” she suggested, obviously looking for some guidance from Jack. If he knew what was going on between John and Donna, maybe he could suggest a course of action here.

John’s expression softened. “Stay,” he suggested. “Donna’s a bit overbearing, but quite loveable when you get used to her,” he suggested. 

Rose nodded. “I do like her a lot. I just… I’m not so sure she appreciates me being here,” she said, suddenly feeling quite vulnerable. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was suddenly confiding in Jack, but she hated feeling so unsure of herself and she couldn’t help but look for some reassurance.

Jack shook his head emphatically, moving in right away to put a hand on her shoulder. “No, Rose. I promise it’s not you. Those two…” he trailed off, looking at the sky as if for inspiration, “... they’re like…God. How can I put it? They’re like two lost cubs looking for a Mum they never found. They depend on each other for survival, but they don’t always like that they do. You know what I mean?” he asked, his eyes squinting in hope.

“Uh… sorta. ‘M not sure how that relates what happened in there, though,” she admitted. 

Jack sighed. “I should probably let John get into that with you. Just… don’t worry about Donna, okay? I promise whatever went on in there wasn’t because she doesn’t like you, alright?”

Rose wasn’t sure she believed him, but agreed just to placate him. He seemed genuinely concerned that she thought Donna might not care for her. 

A moment later, John sauntered into the kitchen and snaked his hands around her waist to pull her back into his front. It was a brand new level of intimacy for them and it set off fireworks in her belly. “You two coming back, or what?” he said lightly, ducking to rest his chin on her shoulder.

Jack gave John a rather significant look which Rose once again felt completely not part of. This was all getting a bit much. “I was just telling Jack I should probably get going,” Rose suggested, pulling away from John’s embrace despite her body’s protests.

“Really?” John said, disappointment clear in his voice. 

“Yeah. I’ve got a long trek back home, I’m afraid,” she supplied by way of an excuse. 

John cleared his throat. “You could, uh… you could maybe stay here tonight. If you want?” 

Rose’s eyes must’ve widened to the size of saucers, because John quickly clarified, “I mean… you don’t have to work tomorrow, yeah? And then I wouldn’t worry about you getting home safely. Plus, it’s already half-ten and there are probably ne’er do wells and… zombies about. You know… full moon and all that…” he trailed off, eyes entreating.

Rose laughed despite herself. “I’m pretty sure it’s Werewolves that come out in a full moon,” she corrected. 

John smiled his trademark toothy grin. “Zombies… werewolves… whatever. The point is that it’s obviously a monster fest out there at this hour,” he pointed out, moving in behind her again to wrap his arms possessively around her middle. 

Whatever resolve she thought she had a few moments ago completely left her with his touch. “Joooooohn…” she whined.

“Come ooooooon,” John rumbled into her neck, pressing a very convincing kiss there.

“John does have a point, Rose,” Jack said supportively of his cousin. “Definitely monsters out this time of night. I’d stay here if I were you,” he suggested. 

“No fair… you two ganging up on me like that,” she grinned, her tongue touching her teeth.

John squeezed her a bit more tightly. “Pleeeeease?” he breathed in her ear.

Turning her head, to look into his eyes, she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly. “Yeah, okay,” she said a lot less enthusiastically than she felt. “But only if you promise to make sure none of those millions of monsters get in here tonight,” she challenged with a flirty grin.

“I swear,” John said, his eyes suddenly becoming quite serious. “I won’t let anything hurt you tonight.”

Just then, Rose noticed Donna standing in the entrance to the kitchen, hands on hips. “John, can I talk to you for a minute,” she said, clearly unimpressed.

John’s body sagged against hers a bit and he let out an audible breath through his nose. “I’ll be back in a tic,” he said, his voice soft in her ear. Moving away from her, he exited the room with his sister. 

Suddenly Rose felt very self conscious about agreeing to stay the night here. Sighing, she pulled her hand up to rub her temple. What was she doing? 

From the other room, muffled voices could be heard drifting in through the open doorway. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the tone was clear. Self consciousness was quickly replaced by rising anxiety. This wasn’t okay with his sister, who was the only family he had. She really should go. Yes. She should. 

Gathering her purse onto her shoulder, she took a small step away from Jack. “I should go. This is…” she said warily, looking back toward the living room, “... this isn’t right. They shouldn’t be arguing. Even if I have nothing to do with it… they should probably have some time to work it out, yeah?” she suggested. “So… could you just tell him thanks for me? Tell him to ring me tomorrow… if he still wants to,” she said, backing away more.

“Rose…” Jack said, walking toward her.

“No, really, Jack… thank-you so much for tonight. I just… I think they need some space,” she reiterated.

A sad anxious tingle spread through her as she purposefully turned to head for the door. This wasn’t how she’d imagined this evening ending, but it she really shouldn’t be surprised. What did she think his family would think of her? Did she really imagine they’d welcome her with open arms?

Stepping out into the evening, she let the cool air sober her. This entire event had been a bad idea. For a moment she hated herself for allowing herself to be made vulnerable like this. There was a reason she’d been playing it safe in her life… it was so she didn’t have to feel this way. Closing her eyes, she felt hot tears prickle behind her lids. Looking up at the sky, she studied the bright stars twinkling overhead. Memories of their date at the Observatory played through her mind. How close they’d been to sharing a kiss. It sent a shiver through her. 

Well… it didn’t look as if that dream was probably going to happen now. Not if Donna had anything to say about it. And she _should_. She was John’s only family and she was looking out for what was best for him. That apparently wasn’t her. 

Tears actually escaped her eyes, streaking down her cheeks as she started toward the street. She wasn’t going to put herself in a position like this again. It was bad enough she knew what her real lot in life was, but the last thing she needed was it firmly supported by people she had desperately hoped would forgive her for it. 

OoOoOoOoOoO

John huffed as he re-entered the kitchen, leaving Donna stewing in the living room. It was one thing to have her concerned about him. It was quite another to have her try to control what was left of his life. Granted, he was pushing the boundaries of being reasonable now. In fairness, though, he hadn’t started off the night _intending_ to seduce Rose tonight. It’s just… she was so… Rose. And what would a few stolen kisses do anyway? It wasn’t like he was gonna shag her. Or was he? His rather wine-addled body sure wanted to. 

Looking up, he found Jack approaching him. “Where’s Rose?” he asked, taking in his cousin’s guilty expression.

“She sort of… left,” Jack said meekly. “I tried to stop her, but she insisted you and Donna needed time to work out your problems. Doc… I think she thought you two were arguing about her,” he explained.

Before Jack was done talking, John was halfway out of the room heading for the front door. He had to catch her. He couldn’t let her go thinking she was the problem or that she might have done something wrong.

Barely pausing to put on his shoes, he took off out of the house and down the street at a run. In the far distance he thought he saw Rose’s form round a corner ahead. Putting on a burst of speed, he attempted to catch up. He efforts, though, were quickly negated by his frail body. His legs suddenly began to ache in earnest, making him slow and finally stop. 

Bending over, his hands braced on his thighs, he breathed in and out purposefully trying to slow his heart rate and push down the pain. Lightheadedness quickly joined the increasing number of symptoms he was experiencing, and he found he was no longer able to stand. A pained moan shot from him with the sudden jolt to his bones and joints as he dropped to his knees onto the pavement. 

Rolling onto his side, he curled up into a ball in an effort to minimize the contact between himself and the cold ground. The world swam around him even as he cursed his blasted infirm body. Fuck! He needed to catch her. To see her and explain. 

Working to get back up on his hands and knees, he found his body wholly uncooperative and once again engulfed in fiery pain. Closing his eyes, he tried to will it away, but that was futile as well. 

Slowly, blackness creeped into the swirling colours playing on the back of his closed lids. A zing of fear pulsed through him for a moment. Was this it? Death? 

His last thought before darkness claimed him was that, if this was the end, he hoped Rose wasn’t the one who found him lifeless on the ground. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved white beaches. She deserved… happiness.


	9. Running Into

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know for sure, but I imagine every writer comes across chapters they have arguments with. This one kicked me in the shins and then roundhoused me when I wasn’t looking. I’m still not 100% sure I won the fight, but it was at least a draw, I think! 
> 
> Thanks for continuing to read and review… I’m honestly always grateful!

### Running Out : Chapter 9 - Running Into 

Rose was working the late shift at Henriks and it seemed to drag on forever. It didn’t help that she’d barely slept last night, unable to turn off her racing, worried thoughts. Maybe she shouldn’t have left John’s place last night. She’d sort of had to, though. There was nothing she could possibly have said to Donna to right the situation because it probably wasn’t her, as a person, that Donna was unhappy with. It was more likely her life situation that was offensive, and there was nothing she could actually do about that.

No, she’d done the right thing. The only question now was whether she’d ever hear from John again. The idea of never hearing his voice again tore at her. She had fallen hard even though she’d tried to be cautious at first. But he’d been so kind. So… perfect. So she’d allowed herself hope and even started embracing the idea that they might actually have some sort of future together. He hadn’t seemed to mind that she hadn’t gone to Uni or that she didn’t have a high paying, prestigious job. He hadn’t even batted an eye when he pulled up in front of her shabby apartment building. So she’d let herself imagine that she might get to have this dream. 

Now though… now she wished she’d guarded her fragile ego for a just a bit longer. If he didn’t call her again… if he decided she wasn’t worth the discussion with Donna… well, she was pretty sure her heart wouldn’t recover anytime soon. 

“You comin’?,” Marcie said, tapping her on the shoulder as she refolded a jumper some customer hadn’t cared for. 

Quickly checking her watch she was happily surprised to find it was already 9:05. “Oh. Yeah,” Rose said, partly relieved and partly nervous. She was relieved this endless shift was finally over, but nervous to check her phone for messages. She’d done her best to distract her thoughts from that very question most of the day, but now there was no getting away from it. Anxiety tightened her insides. Pretty soon she’d know if he’d been able to convince Donna she was worth his time.

Following Marcie, she signed out and grabbed her purse and phone from her locker. Quickly throwing her bag over her shoulder, she nervously pulled up her phone and checked for messages. 

Nothing. A cold knife pierced her heart. She’d desperately hoped for...something. Some acknowledgement of last night. Fears she’d nursed all day swam forward to grip her. Donna had probably convinced him to let her go… not to pursue her. She’d likely talked sense into him… pointed out the fact that the shop girl from the estate wasn’t nearly good enough for him or for their family. 

Coming out of the store, still sadly focused on the screen of her phone, she walked directly into a solid male form and gave a little yelp of surprise. Sure arms came out to steady her. “Oi!” he exclaimed, clearly also surprised by the encounter. “You okay?” he asked, his coffee coloured eyes looking her up and down. 

The bloke was a really quite attractive blonde man who looked to be in his early thirties… maybe John’s age. He had a kind face but decidedly serious eyes. “Uh, yeah… sorry ‘bout that. Should look where I’m goin’,” she apologized, waggling her phone apologetically in explanation. 

The bloke smiled in response. “Really… don’t worry about it. I consider myself lucky that I’m the one you bumped into,” he said, his gaze unmistakably flirty. 

Rose felt herself blush under his clear interest. A little nervous laugh escaped her. “Yeah, well… sorry anyhow,” she managed, ducking her head and moving to step around him. 

As she did, though, he said, “Wait… aren’t you the girl on the ads? On the Vitex commercials?” he asked, pointing at her with a wondrous expression.

Rose laughed on purpose now. “No… not me, I’m afraid.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn…” he said shaking his head. “I’m Harry, by the way,” he said, extending his hand. 

Taking it politely, she said, “Rose. Nice to meet you,” she nodded. “Um… I should really…” she said, nodding in the direction she’d been walking.

“Oh, right. Of course. Nice meeting you, Rose. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime,” he said, a friendly smile gracing his wholesome features.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. See you around,” she nodded with a friendly grin before turning and resuming her walk toward the tube. He was a good looking guy, but he wasn’t John. Once again, her heart tightened. This was going to be a long night. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

The room swam into focus slowly, and with his growing awareness came pain. In his legs, his arms and his head. Hell… everything ached. Swallowing dryly, he turned his head and was surprised to find someone standing beside the bed. 

“Doc? Doc! Thank god you’re awake!” Jack’s relieved voice said exuberantly. A warm hand clasped his colder one. “Donna’s been worried sick.”

John glanced around the room. “Oh… she should be back in a few minutes. I made her go get some food,” he said, explaining her absence. “How you feeling?” he asked, perching on the side of the bed.

Turning dazedly to look at the bedside table he spied a glass. “Water?” he croaked, looking back to Jack. 

“Oh, yeah… of course,” Jack said, reaching for the cup and aiming the straw toward John’s lips. “Here,” he offered, holding the glass while John sipped. His mouth felt so incredibly dry. “How long?” he rasped, hoping his message was clear enough. Talking seemed to be much more effortful than it should be. 

Jack swallowed. “Three days,” he informed him, his expression solemn. “I wasn’t kidding John. We were really worried.”

Three days. God. He’d been out for three whole days. 

“I should let the doctors know you’re awake,” Jack suggested, standing.

Grabbing Jack’s hand to stop him, John cleared his throat in hopes of finding more of a voice. “Rose?” he rasped.

Jack’s expression softened and he shook his head. “She doesn’t know. I would’ve called her, but I don’t know the password for your phone,” he said, nodding toward the nightstand. 

John nodded his understanding. Probably best she didn’t know. It was actually probably for the best she’d left last n-… the other night as well. He honestly hadn’t been clear headed when he’d asked her to stay. What had he been thinking? Obviously he _hadn’t_ been thinking. At least not with his brain. He shook his head. How cruel would it be to her… invite her to stay only to tell her the next day that he was a gonner. 

“Listen, Doc… I meant to tell you this the other night before Rose came over, but I didn’t, and then after… well, obviously I couldn’t tell you then…” Jack rambled.

“What is it?” John asked, now concerned.

Jack sighed audibly, frustration obvious in his manner. He began pacing the room. “I met with the University. They… they said need to finish their assessment and then they’ll decide whether to allow you access to your equipment. They said it could take up to a _month_.” Jack’s body exuded tension and frustration now rolled off him in waves. “I mean… what part of ‘He’s got weeks to live’ do they not _get_?” he ranted. 

It didn’t surprise him. “Really, Jack… I told you Saxon wasn’t going to let this happen,” he said resignedly, sorry to have to say ‘I told you so.’  
Sitting up slowly, John swung his legs over the side of the bed and unsteadily tottered to his feet. The movement made him dizzy, but he did his best to hide it. 

“But he’s not the only one there! Surely some of those other people at the University have some clout,” he suggested.

“They should, but they don’t. Not really,” he explained, rummaging through the closet and pulling out his clothes. “Saxon has them in the palm of his hand, Jack. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s got something on every single one of them that makes them unable to go against him. He’s a power hungry arse. You know that,” John confirmed, sounding more out of breath than he would’ve liked.

“Yeah, I suppose I do. Still… I thought for sure Torchwood’s offering of funding for the physics department would be snapped up,” he said, frustration still surrounding him like a cloud.

“Well, thanks for trying Jack. It’s appreciated, you know that, right?” he said, his eyes meeting those of the man he’d grown up with. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m not done though,” he vowed, his finger pointing purposefully in John’s direction.

John smiled sadly. “I know.”

Just then a hard knock issued from the door and the arrival of Donna was announced with an angry, “Oi, Spaceman!”

John half rolled his eyes. “Hello, Donna,” he said resignedly.

“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” she blustered.

“Donna…” he half warned, half entreated.

“Get back in that bed this instant!” she demanded. “What are you _thinking_? You just woke up, for God’s sake!” she went on.

“I’m alright, Donna. Really, I’m fi-”

“Oh no you don’t,” his sister interrupted, her voice actually trembling. “You’re _not_ fine and don’t even pretend that you are. Look at you! You’re white as a sheet! Now get back up on that bed or so help me, I’ll pick your scrawny arse up and put you there,” she demanded, her eyes piercing and her countenance truly threatening. 

Silence descended with both Jack and John taken aback by the ferocity of Donna’s command. Finally, John threw his hands up and moved back to the bed. Climbing in, he laid down again in resignation. There was no arguing when Donna reached this level of agitation and they all knew it. 

Donna sniffed in a controlling breath and straightened her shirt. “Good. Now I’m gonna tell the nurses you’re awake and get you some food,” she informed him, pulling the blanket up to cover him more properly.

John just nodded his agreement as he watched the tension leave her. Patting his chest, she turned for the door. 

“Donna…” he called before she got there. Turning, her worried eyes settled on his. “Thanks.”

Donna’s eyes filled and her lips set in a strained smile. “‘S alright,” she answered, her voice tight with emotion. Then, turning her sights on Jack, she stuck her finger out in accusation. “And _YOU_. You come with me. I want a few words with you,” she said in a voice that broached no argument. 

Jack swallowed in what John was sure was fear and he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for his cousin. He’d had a few less years of practice bolstering his defences against Donna’s tirades and he knew how intense they could be. Not that Jack sometimes didn’t deserve them.

“I’ll be right back,” Jack said hopefully, darting John a quick ‘help me’ look.

John smiled. He didn’t envy the man about now.

Taking a deep breath, he had to admit it probably wasn’t a bad idea to stay put for a couple of hours. He was still sore. Closing his eyes, he found his thoughts drifting back to Rose. His Rose. 

No. Not _his_. She never would be. A biting regret clawed at him with the thought. He was dying. There were so many things he had still wanted to do, but missing out on those other things felt heavenly compared to the deep sadness that gnawed at him when he thought of how he would never have the opportunity to spend a life with Rose Tyler.

“Nice flowers,” a familiar man’s voice drawled from the end of the bed. 

John’s eyes flew open. At the end of his bed stood someone he honestly had hoped he’d never see again. “Harry.”


	10. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, friends. Things are about to get even more complicated, so hand on tight...

### Running Out : Chapter 10 - Harry

Harold Saxon’s lips turned up in a grin that was anything but friendly. “Hello, John. I heard you were laid up. Thought I’d come by and pay my respects,” he explained.

“Did you?” John said with exaggerated politeness.

He nodded, placing a bouquet of flowers on the end of the bed. “I brought these,” he said, as if the gift justified his presence. 

“What do you want?” John asked, tired of the pretense.

Harry smirked. “Can’t a childhood friend offer his condolences when a dear friend is suffering?” 

“Only if he is offering said friend access to his equipment,” John clarified.

Harry huffed out a derisive laugh. “If only it were that simple,” he stated. “Firstly… we still have to make sure it’s actually safe for human use. I mean… you’re a case in point,” he pointed out.

John sat still, trying not to bite back a response.

“Then, well, we still have to decide if it is actually going to be beneficial to you. I mean… it could simply make you worse, couldn’t it? It would be… irresponsible… to do such a thing. Giving you carte blanche access to a machine that could _kill you_ ,” he said, condescendingly.

Once again, John did his best to hold his tongue. Lashing back would solve no problems. Lashing back would only feed the monster.

“Teleportation,” Harry drawled, looking at the ceiling, letting the word hang in the air. “It would be quite the achievement to harness that particular power. And you were close, weren’t you, John? So close.” Harry tsked and shook his head. 

“Did you have something you actually wanted to _say_ , or did you just come here to taunt a dying man?” John asked, working to keep his expression deadpan. He didn’t want to give Harry the satisfaction of knowing he was successfully pressing buttons.

A sickening smile spread on Harry’s lips. “If I’m honest, it’s definitely more the latter than the former,” he informed him. “When I heard you were in hospital, I realized I didn’t want to miss what might be my last opportunity to share my latest discovery. I couldn’t let you move on from this world not knowing the incredible journey your dearest friend is about to embark on,” he said smugly.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Harry. Get to the point,” John said brusquely.

“Patience, John,” Harry cautioned. “Then again… that never was your strong suit, was it? Patience? Take, for example, your foray into experimentation with arton energy,” Harry began.

A spike of fear bit through John’s heart. 

“Arton is just a byproduct of your teleportation experiments but I made a startling discovery while examining your equipment, Dr. Smith. You see… I just couldn’t figure out why exposure to the hypothesized harmless arton particles would cause your health to deteriorate so rapidly. Then it occurred to me… what might happen if arton energy was contained and teleported?”

The spike of fear that had lodged in his heart had now morphed into a lightening bolt of sheer terror. He knew. Harry knew.

Saxon must’ve read the dawning realization on his face, because a knowing grin contorted his face. Unheeded, he continued, “Can you come up with a hypothesis around that, John?” 

John stopped breathing.

Moving in and leaning over to press his mouth to John’s ear, Harry whispered, “Time travel.”

“No.”

Harry stood up straight and let out a derisive laugh. “That’s your response? Just… ‘No’?”

John stared at the man who had just ended the idea of his ability to die knowing the world was safe. “Harry… you can’t.”

Tilting his head a bit to study John like some interesting petri dish experiment, Harry’s brows furrowed. “Oh?”

Gathering his reserves, John launched into a desperate plea, “It’s…it’s foolhardy to think time can be safely travelled through. Look at me! I’m bloody _dying_.”

Harry nodded mournfully. “Yes. You are. Shame, that. If only you’d just been a bit more patient you might’ve taken the time to work out that the degradation factor of arton energy was too high to use it in it’s pure form,” he said, looking thoughtful.

Oh, God. That was exactly what John knew had gone wrong. Had he ever planned to continue his research, his next step would’ve been to refine the energy before trying again. He wouldn’t have, though. He wouldn’t have continued his research. That was the difference between himself and Harry. Harry would. 

“You can’t, though, Harry. Don’t you see?” John said, running his hand frustratedly through his hair. “To travel through time… it’s… we aren’t _ready_ for that yet. Humans are too… power hungry. We’re too violent at this point in our evolution,” he entreated. “Unleashing humankind… if the wrong people get hold of this technology… it could end us. Who knows what sort of chaos would unfold,” he pleaded.

“Oh, I fully intend to make sure my discovery doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. The only hands that will ever touch it will be mine,” he assured him. 

John’s mind reeled. It felt like the earth was falling out from under him. The only thing… the only consolation he had had was knowing his secret would die with him. Now it wouldn’t. 

Turning, Harry made his way over to the door. “Oh… and I know why you want access to your equipment, Dr. Smith. Setting up the same parameters and reversing the polarity of the teleportation sequence would revert you back to your state before your failed attempt at travelling through time, wouldn’t it?”

John’s slack jaw snapped shut. Harry even knew how he’d hoped to save himself. 

“Shame you won’t see that equipment again. A few people seem to think it might be a good idea to let you have access to it, so they’ve asked the committee to consider it, but we simply can’t take the chance that you might damage all that very expensive and important technology,” he said, looking slightly mournful. “I’m in charge of keeping the University’s investment safe, you see. It wouldn’t do if I took undo chances with it after all they’ve invested,” he explained. 

John wanted to cry. He was helpless. Harry was going to pillage his way through time, changing the world as he did so, and no one would ever know. No one would know exactly what had changed and why. And that was the best case scenario. Knowing Harry’s proclivity for self gratification and need for power, there was clearly potential for much worse consequences.

“Oh, and a little bird told me you were seeing someone. A bit late to meet a life partner, don’t you think?” Harry tossed out lightly. “I met her, by the way. Lovely girl. I wonder how long she’ll need to mourn you before she’s ready to date again? Then again… no need to wait, really, is there? It’s not like you’re engaged or anything,” he said thoughtfully. 

Sitting up fully, John suddenly found the strength that had deserted him since he woke in this room. “You leave her alone,” he warned. If looks could kill, he knew Harry would be languishing away on the floor right now.

Harry merely smiled condescendingly. “Oh, John. What are you gonna do if I don’t? Besides… you want her to be happy, don’t you? I assure you, I will make her very happy. Anyway… gotta run. The committee is meeting to talk about the new lab set up. I’m having everything moved to my own lab, you see. More comfortable than that dank basement they had you stuffed in,” he finished. “Give my love to Donna.”

And he was gone.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Jack strolled back to John’s hospital room after a good tongue lashing from his ginger cousin. Man, that woman could talk. As much as he understood her anger at his acceptance of John’s impetuous actions, he didn’t apologize. John didn’t have long left in this world and if it were him, he wouldn’t thank anyone for insisting he spend it in a sterile hospital bed. 

Rounding the corner, he found his cousin dressed and pulling on one of his trainers. 

“Jesus, Doc… Donna just finished reaming me out for the _last_ time she caught you trying to do this,” he lamented.

Looking up solemnly, John’s eye met his. “I had a visitor.”

The intensity of John’s stare and the tension in his body meant it could only be one person. “Harry.”

“Yup,” he agreed, tugging his second shoe on. Jack waited for elaboration. Finally his cousin looked up at him. “There’s something I haven’t told you, Jack. It’s big. I… I haven’t told anyone. Not one soul. It’s something no one should know… it was meant to die with me. But… Harry’s figured it out and now…” John trailed off, frustratedly raking his hand through his hair, “...now I can’t just sit back and wait for the end. I need to stop him.”

Jack’s mind raced. “What is it, Doc? Tell me. I swear it won’t leave this room,” he assured him.

Standing, John made his way to the door. “I will, Jack. But right now, I need to get out of here and figure out a way to get into Harry’s lab. I can’t stop him if I’m not alive.”

Jack smiled. As much as he hated the idea that Harry was holding something over his cousin, he couldn’t help but celebrate the fact John wasn’t going to just sit by and let his life end. “Alright, I’m in,” he assured him. “Shouldn’t we tell Donna, though?” he cringed. “If she finds out you left without telling her, she’ll have my head,” he said, slightly embarrassed that he sounded a bit frightened.

“Yeah… alright. Let’s find her and get out of here,” he agreed, obviously understanding the implications of doing otherwise. 

Nodding, Jack followed John from the room with renewed hope.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Four days. It had been four days since Rose had left John’s house and had dropped her heart on his doorstep on the way out. Her Mum had left her a few messages since then but she hadn’t had the heart to answer them with more than a quick text, Tired last couple of days. Call you later.

The first day had been all about her waiting… hoping… to hear from him again. The next passed much the same way, but as the third day progressed, her hopes began to fade. Now, four days on, she woke up with the sad realization that it was over. If he was going to call, he would’ve by now. No… the threads of hope she’d clung on to for the first three days needed to be freed. 

Unfortunately, work had continued and she’d been scheduled every day. In some ways she welcomed the opportunity to think about anything else besides John, but in other ways she just wished she could curl up in her bed and mope. On top of that, today was Sunday. Another fantastic day spent with Cassandra hovering over her shoulder. Luckily, she only worked until five tonight and it was already half-four. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” a gravelly baritone voice said over her shoulder.

Turning quickly, she found the blonde bloke from the other day smiling at her. 

“Oh, hi,” she said politely. “Yeah… I work here,” she said, patting her nametag in emphasis. “Um… is there something you need help with?”

“No, not really. I was just looking around, but I saw you and couldn’t pass up the chance to say hi,” he said warmly.

Ducking her head a bit shyly, she allowed herself a half smile. As much as her heart was currently ripped in half and she wasn’t interested in _ever_ dating again, she had to admit it felt good when a nice looking bloke showed interest.

“Rose, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m… I’m sorry, I forget…” she apologized.

“That’s okay. It’s Harry,” he said. “I’m sure you have blokes trying to make conversation with you all the time… too many names to try to remember,” he offered as an excuse for her.

She smiled back despite herself. 

“Look…” he said, obviously a bit ill at ease, “I hope this doesn’t sound too forward or anything, but… I was wondering, if you’re done work soon, maybe you’d like to come to dinner with me? I know this fantastic little restaurant not far from here,” he suggested hopefully.

Rose bit her lip in sudden discomfort. “Oh, uh… look, I’m sorry. I appreciate the offer. I really do. It’s just… well, I’ve recently broken up with someone and… well, it’s complicated,” she explained, hoping she didn’t sound dismissive.

Harry’s face fell a bit. “Oh. Well… look… it doesn’t have to be a ‘date’ date. It’s just, if I’m honest, I actually don’t get a chance to leave my office very often, so when I do I hate the idea of going back right away,” he explained, looking a bit embarrassed with the admission. “Besides… I’m a really good listener,” he suggested, his eyes hopeful.

Oh, God. The poor bloke seemed so lonely. “Well… alright,” she nodded, offering his a warm smile. “I’m done at five… how about I meet you out front around ten after?”

“Wonderful,” he said happily. “See you then.” Turning, he walked back toward the main isle. 

Lord. What had she just agreed to? Two minutes ago she was pining for her bed, a bucket of ice cream and night in front of the telly. From the other side of the department she spied Cassandra shooting her a judgemental eye. She sighed. Oh well. At least she was getting out of this hell hole… and to be fair, Harry seemed like a decent enough bloke. She just hoped the evening didn’t end up with him expecting anything more than light chat and a friendly handshake, cause that’s all he was going to get.


	11. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for your wonderful support for this story so far - I'm very grateful! 
> 
> FYI: I'm writing a few chapters ahead and am revising some of the warnings for the story overall because of upcoming content. I'll make sure to note any specific warnings in chapters needing them. 
> 
> Um... enjoy(?) ;)

### Running Out : Chapter 11 - Dinner

“Not a ‘fish and chips’ bloke?” Rose asked, watching Harry take in the contents of her platter.

Harry had initially suggested they head to ‘Gria’s Grill’, a posh little restaurant not far from Henrik’s, but she’d immediately squashed that idea. She’d tried to make herself a bit presentable after her shift, but she certainly wasn’t dressed for high class. They settled on a nearby pub, which was much more in line with the kind of interaction she hoped to have with this man anyway. She wanted this to be as un-date-like as possible.

Harry had seemed a bit put out that she’d not gone with his initial suggestion, but let her have her way after a half-hearted protest. To be honest, his slight annoyance at her request they go somewhere else bugged her. She was clearly not dressed for a nice evening out, and she _had_ agreed to go with him last minute. It’s not like she’d had time to prepare. Besides, she’d told him she wasn’t really up for a real ‘date’ when he’d asked her in the first place. 

Now, seated in a booth at the pub, eating fish and chips… her usual pub fare, she watched Harry stare at her plate with obvious disdain. 

“Not really into fried food. Bit too greasy for my taste,” he said in reply to her question, picking up his fork and pushing it into the garden salad he’d ordered. His perusal of the menu when they’d entered had elicited a reaction similar to the one he’d just given her plate. In the end he’d decided on greens without anything to accompany them. 

Rose nodded. They ate for a minute before she asked, “Sooo… what do you do? You know… besides hang out at Henrik’s.”

Harry smiled. “I’m a university professor,” he said, clearly a bit proud. “I teach at Imperial College,” he clarified.

Rose’s mouth went dry. Another professor. What was it with her and professors? “Oh? What do you teach?” she asked, trying not to look flustered.

“Physics. I’m actually on the verge of a major scientific breakthrough,” he shared, looking rather smug. 

Rose’s dry mouth turned into a lifeless desert. Physics. At Imperial College. “So… you work with Dr. John Smith, then?” she ventured, unable to keep the tension from her voice.

Harry looked at her quizzically. “Actually, yes… I do,” he said. “Well… I did. Dr. Smith is on indefinite leave right now. Do you know him?” he asked, obviously interested.

Rose swallowed. “Yeah. I do,” she said, unwilling to share more at the moment. What were the bloody chances? 

“Oh,” Harry said, obviously aware that the topic wasn’t a good one to ask about. 

Rose cleared her throat. “So, uh… what’s this discovery you’re on the verge of, then?” she asked, in an effort to change the topic.

Harry’s eyes lit up and he quirked an eyebrow. “It’s still quite hush hush,” he shared, “... but I can tell you… with what I’ve discovered… the scientific community will be turned upside down. What I’ve learned will change the world. It will challenge the way we think of our very physical existence in the universe,” he expounded.

Well he was a bit full of himself, wasn’t he? Still… this must be quite a significant breakthrough in… whatever he was studying. “Wow. Sounds… impressive.” She couldn’t argue that much.

“You have no idea,” Harry said cockily, almost puffing up visibly. “Your life… the lives of every single small minded bureaucrat who ever doubted me… _everyone’s_ lives will be affected. And you’re looking at the man who will have made that happen,” he preened. 

Increased distaste for the man sitting before her bloomed. He really thought he was better than… well, _everyone_ , it seemed. “Right,” she said, unable to think of a better reply.

“Actually… it was something Dr. Smith got me thinking about,” he added, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Always asked the right questions, John did. He was always good at giving the rest of us things to ponder. Always left it up to others to do the real work, though,” he added, his barely veiled dislike of his colleague seeping through the comment. 

At the mention of John’s name Rose had immediately tensed. Harry’s clear distaste for the man who had been so kind to her… it made alarms go off in her head. She might not be in John’s league, but he had never gone out of his way to make her feel that way, and she’d never heard him speak ill of anyone. This man, though… his disdain for anything that wasn’t ‘him’ was cloying.

“Anyway… enough about me,” he said, pulling her from her thoughts. “Tell me about you. You mentioned a break up?” he said, clearly making an effort to look interested in her life. 

An uncomfortable anxiety settled in her stomach. She definitely wasn’t interested in sharing her very personal sadness with this self involved bloke… especially when it involved someone she’d already decided was leagues above him.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright,” she said, poking at the chips on her plate.

“Are you sure? Like I said… I’m a fantastic listener,” he offered.

Pasting a smile on, Rose said, “No, really. Thanks, though. I’m… not quite ready to get into it yet. Still too soon,” she said, trying not to sound like she was brushing him off.

Leaning back, Harry’s eyes darkened a bit. “Alright,” he said. “Your loss. Still… if you change your mind, I’d be happy to lend an ear,” he added.

She was even starting to find his voice grating. “Thanks. I appreciate that,” she said, trying to sound sincere.

“Rose?”

Looking up, Rose’s heart nearly stopped. Approaching the table from behind Harry was Donna. She was leading a nice looking tall bloke who was holding her hand.

“Donna!” she said, a bit too animatedly. Oh God. If Donna didn’t like her before, she was definitely gonna think she was a slag now. Only days after seeing her and her brother holding hands on the couch, here she was out for dinner with some strange man. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Reaching the side of the table, Donna smiled brightly and then darted a look at her dinner partner, who, oddly, sat looking distinctly pleased. Donna’s smile fell. “What are _you_ doin’ here?” she said with a familiarity that shocked her.

“Why, hello, Donna,” Harry said pleasantly. 

Donna’s eye narrowed. If they could shoot daggers, Harry would be lying bloody on the ground. Maybe remembering then that Rose was still there, she shifted her attention back to her. “I, uh… I’m sorry to interrupt your meal,” she said, obviously unimpressed with her choice of company. 

Rose’s heart clenched in her chest. She didn’t want John finding out she was ‘dating’ someone so soon after… cause, she _wasn’t_ , after all. “Donna… I… “ she stopped herself. She didn’t want to do this in front of Harry. “Can I maybe call you sometime?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

Donna’s expression softened the smallest bit. “Yeah sure,” she said. “Nice seein’ you again.” Shooting Harry one last look, she before turned and pulled Lee along out of the pub.

“Well that was uncomfortable,” Harry said, pulling up his glass of wine to take a long sip.

“Yeah,” Rose agreed. There was no question of that. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be rid of this annoying person across from her so she could call Donna and explain. Then it occurred to her. She didn’t have Donna’s number. She needed to hurry if she was going to catch up with her. “Listen… I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but I’m really sort of tired. It’s been a long day…” she explained before trailing off.

Harry’s expression softened a bit. “Of course,” he agreed. “Can I give you a lift home?” he offered.

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine, thanks,” she said, pulling a few pounds from her wallet. 

Seeing the money appear on the table, Harry pushed it back toward her. “Oh no… I asked you to come out with me. It’s my treat,” he offered. She was about to argue when he added, “Plus, I’m sure you need it more than I do,” he elaborated with what she bet he thought was a warm smile.

Shame and anger warred in her causing her cheeks to stain red. A little while ago she might have agreed with him… with the condescending sentiment behind his comment… but now… now it pissed her off. If John had taught her anything, it was that she deserved to be treated with some respect. Still… even though she wanted to have it out with him, she bit her tongue. What was the point? She was never going to see this man again, anyhow.

As she moved to stand, she felt his hand cover hers. “Rose… thanks for coming out tonight,” he said with surprising gentleness. “I would really like to see you again,” he added. Reaching into his jacket pocket with his free hand he pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Why don’t you call when you have an evening free?” 

A ball of nausea formed in her stomach with the thought, but her mother had brought her up to have manners. “Um, yeah. Sure, maybe sometime,” she half-heartedly agreed, tugging her hand from under his to take the proffered card. “Uh, thanks for dinner,” she added before giving him a small wave good-bye. 

She tried not to look to eager to get away from him and this place, but she suspected she hadn’t done a very good job of it as she nearly darted to the door and out onto the sidewalk. Looking both ways, she strained to see a flash of red hair in the sea of people moving through the busy street. Nothing. 

An anxious tight feeling filled her. Granted, John hadn’t contacted her since that evening, but if he’d possibly been entertaining the idea of ever doing so, it sure as hell wasn’t going to happen now. Brilliant, Tyler. Great move.

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

John sat in the kitchen, hating that he felt quite out of breath despite the fact he was actually sitting down at the moment. His lungs had unfortunately started causing him significant problems only this morning, and that, paired with the now nearly unbearable pain and chronic dizziness, had him worried. It seemed that physically his body was giving up the fight. It was a stark reminder of how little time he probably had left to make things right. 

“So where are we with Sarah Jane?” Jack asked, tapping a pen on a sheet of paper before him. 

Sarah Jane Smith. She had started off as a mature graduate student and he had supervised her thesis. She’d gone on to get her doctorate and was now one of the leading researchers in the field of physics. She was driven and intelligent, but most of all, she was passionate and fought for what was right. The University hired her straight after her graduation, which was no surprise to him. He’d been involved in orchestrating it. They’d been colleagues now for three years and she was a respected member of faculty.

When she’d learned of the Uni’s plans to cut off his access to his equipment she’d balked and fought back like a mother bear. No one wronged her John. He smiled. Interesting how, at one time, he’d been her ‘saviour’ in a way… he’d encouraged her to continue her studies despite her sudden and unexpected foray into parenthood. Now, here she was, ready to save him. 

“Yeah… she’s willing to help. I hate putting her in this position, though,” John lamented. As much as the stakes were now far higher than merely saving his own life, he didn’t like putting her job and reputation at risk. 

“I know. But if what you’ve said is true… there’s really no choice,” Jack commiserated. 

John nodded sadly, pressing his forefinger and thumb against the sinuses above his eyes in an effort to focus himself away from the spinning of the room. He’d told Jack everything. About his discovery, about his botched experiment and about the very real possibility of time travel. As expected, Jack had been flabbergasted and slightly hurt John hadn’t told him of his discovery before now. It hadn’t taken him long though to understand why John had kept it a secret. With people out there like Saxon… such technology was far too dangerous. And as much as John trusted Jack, there was no need to hoist such a weighty burden on his shoulders as well. 

“Well it looks like we’re set for tomorrow night, then,” Jack announced. “Sarah’s made sure Saxon will be attending the symposium at King’s College as representative of the Uni, so that’s him out of the way for at least eight hours. Plenty of time, right, Doc?”

John nodded. “That’ll give me enough time to recalibrate the equipment,” he agreed. Leaning back in his chair, he sagged a bit, exhausted by the effort it was taking just to ward off the ever present ache. 

“Maybe you should take a break for a bit, Doc. You look like shit,” Jack observed. 

“Thanks, Jack. Much appreciated,” John said wryly.

“How’re you doing? Really?” Jack asked carefully.

John sighed. Donna asked him the same question on an hour by hour basis, and hearing it was aggravating. He pushed aside the immediate cranky reaction though. Jack had been actually quite brilliant about not pestering him about it. He’d just been there as a constant support, which John appreciated more than he could really express. “I’m… sore,” he admitted. It was a mighty understatement, and he knew Jack knew it. Blessedly, though, he let it go.

“Have you, uh… have you thought about maybe calling Rose?” Jack ventured, apparently on a roll now.

Memories of the night she left wafted through his mind. He very much wanted to apologize… to set things right… but what if this didn’t work? What if this all went to shit, and he ended up dying anyway? 

“No. Not now. It’s too much to expect her to deal with,” he said, convincing himself as much as Jack. He knew it was the fair way to go… waiting… but a big part of him just wanted her arms around him. That wasn’t going to happen, though. Steeling himself, he concluded, “When this is all over… if everything works out… I’ll make it right with her.”

Jack merely nodded. “Right. Well… it looks like you’ll be able to call her very soon then,” he said, offering John a reassuring smile.

“Oi! Anyone home?” Donna shouted from the door. 

“In here,” Jack shouted back. 

Donna and Lee appeared, brown bag in hand. “Brought wine. Thought you could use a glass or seven,” she said, moving in to kiss John on the cheek and then do the same for Jack. 

“Hey, Lee… how was your trip?” Jack asked, patting Donna’s significant other on the shoulder. 

“Was good. Too long, though,” he said, darting Donna a significant affectionate look. 

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Jack replied. John smiled, knowing Jack honestly _couldn’t_ imagine anyone missing Donna _that way_. 

“Lee, love… could you pour me and Jack a glass? I’ve just gotta tell him something,” she requested.

“Oi! What’s with the secrets?” John interjected. 

“Listen, Spaceman… I’ve just gotta ask him a favour, yeah? You don’t have to know _everything_ , you know,” she admonished. 

“Hmmm,” John hummed, knowing full well she was keeping something from him that he really _should_ probably know. She couldn’t lie to save her life.

John and Lee watched Donna pull Jack from the room by the front of his shirt. “What was that about?” John asked Lee confidentially.

Lee’s eyes dropped to the bottle of wine before him. “Nothing. Donna’s just… planning something,” he answered vaguely.

John’s lips quirked up. “You’re a terrible liar,” he informed his honorary brother-in-law. 

Lee’s eyes rose to meet his, guilt spilling from them. “Look… I can’t tell you, okay. She’d kill me,” he entreated, clearly begging John to drop the subject.

A pang of sympathy played in him for Donna’s beau. “Yeah… I suppose she would,” John nodded, reaching for the glass Lee was now offering him despite knowing it would do nothing good for his dizziness. 

“To secrets,” John said, raising his glass.

“To secrets,” Lee smiled in response. They clinked the wine filled goblets together and both took a long drink. Whatever Donna was on about in there hardly mattered right now. What really mattered was that, hopefully, this time tomorrow night he wouldn’t be working to pull in breath and trying to ignore the increasingly insistent pain in his bones. This time tomorrow night he’d be in better shape to stop Saxon and maybe, just maybe, he’d screw up the courage to call Rose and apologize. This time tomorrow night… he’d be ready to live his life again. And this time, he’d appreciate every single moment of it.


	12. Prelude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes are faced with bad news and some significant choices.

### Running Out : Chapter 12 - Prelude

Jack had called in sick already and Donna had rearranged her schedule for the day. In truth, Jack had sort of hoped to leave Donna out of the actual execution of this mission, but she’d let them know in no uncertain terms that _that_ was not gonna happen. As much as he hated to admit it, though, it was probably for the best. John had been in exceptionally rough shape yesterday and Jack actually questioned whether he was going to be able to manage even walking the halls of the Uni by himself. He’d need Donna to help him.

Jack glanced over at the clock over the microwave. 5:15 a.m.. Donna should be here any minute and then they’d wake John and get going. The doors to the rooms in the university were unlocked by custodial staff at 7:00. Harry shouldn’t be stepping foot in the lab at all today, so they didn’t have to worry about encountering him. What they _did_ have to worry about was running into other faculty or students while trying to get John to the lab. For that reason, the earlier they got going, the better. He still had time for coffee, however. A man had to have priorities, after all.

Pouring himself a strong, steaming cup, Jack felt a familiar vibration in his back pocket followed by a ‘Twilight Zone’ theme ring. Pulling his phone out, he spied the number. Sarah Jane.

“Hi, Sarah. What’s up?” Jack asked, concerned about the contact at this early hour.

“Jack? Look… I’ve got some very bad news,” she said, her voice betraying her nerves.

“What is it?” his own body now fully alert.

“I just checked my messages from last night… I’m so sorry I didn’t look at them sooner. The symposium… there’s been a last minute cancellation. They’ve rescheduled for next week,” she informed him.

“Next week?!” Jack barked. “We can’t wait until next week to get him access to his equipment, Sarah. He won’t make it that long,” he admitted.

There was silence on the other end for a moment. “I didn’t know he was that bad already,” she said, clearly alarmed by the news. 

Jack sighed heavily. “Yeah… it’s been all downhill for the last week or so. I’m not gonna lie, Sarah. He’s in rough shape.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah breathed. “What are we going to do? We have to get Dr. Saxon out of here so John can access the lab, but… how?” she worried.

“Fuck,” Jack intoned, now pacing the room. They needed to keep Saxon busy somehow… for _hours_. Jesus. The man hardly ever actually left the lab, let alone the University. How were they going to distract him for that long. 

Then it hit him. 

“Sarah… I have an idea. Let me get back to you.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

A knock clunked insistently at her door. Startled, Rose peeled her eyes open and looked at the luminescent numbers shining from her bedside table. Six o’clock. In the morning. Worried alarms began ringing in her head. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour?

Climbing out of bed, she pulled her robe over her grey tee and knickers and quietly made her way to the door. Peeking through the peephole, Rose’s heart picked up its pace. It was John’s cousin. 

Donna had told him she’d seen her with someone else and now he’d come to shout at her or something. At six in the bloody morning, no less. Just what she needed. A part her bristled in defence of her actions. It wasn’t like John hadn’t had a chance to call, after all. He’d clearly changed his mind about them and she’d had every right to meet someone else for a casual dinner.

Smoothing her sleep-mussed hair, she opened the door, ready for an argument. His expression was anything but argumentative, though. He looked… worried. More than worried… he looked scared. “Jack?” was all she could find to say.

“Hi, Rose,” he said kindly. “I’m sorry to wake you, but, uh… I think we should talk. Do you think I could come in for a few minutes?”

Taken aback, she nodded. “Uh… sure. Come in,” she invited, moving aside to give him room to enter. Showing him into the flat, she lead him to the kitchen. “Coffee?” she asked, pulling the carafe out to fill it with water.

“Uh, sure. Thanks,” he said, seating himself at the table. 

Putting the coffee on, Rose returned to the table and sat across from him. “So… what is it you need to tell me?” Rose asked, her curiosity and anxiety now piqued. Surely it had taken some effort to find out where she lived and to come over when he could simply have called. Whatever it was he wanted to say, he had obviously felt it needed to be said in person.

“Rose… I don’t know how to tell you this,” he started quietly. Rose waited a moment while he seemingly gathered his thoughts. Raising his gaze very purposely to meet hers, he said, “John’s dying.”

The words that left Jack’s mouth met her ears but didn’t penetrate her mind. “What?” she heard herself say.

Jack leaned forward at the table and pulled her hands into his. “John. He’s dying. Something happened to him in his lab about seven weeks ago… an experiment went wrong,” he elaborated. “It caused widespread mutation of his cells, making them replicate out of control. Sort of like cancer, but more… organized,” he explained.

Rose heard it all. The words pushed their way through her denial and embedded themselves in her heart and made the air still in her lungs. John was dying. “Oh, god…” she said, tears springing to her eyes. 

Jack’s hands tightened around hers. “I’m sorry,” he said lowly. “He’s only known for a month or so… but he’s… well, the night you left… he took a turn for the worse,” Jack said carefully.

Her mind reeled. The night she’d left. That was the night he’d… and he hadn’t called because…

“I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want you to know,” Jack shared.

Rose’s head shot up. “What? Why?” she demanded, her heart feeling like it was being pulled apart. How could he have kept this from her? She thought… she thought there was something real between them.

“Rose… I know he has real feelings for you. I know it. He’s never spoken of anyone like he has of you. It’s just… I think he just didn’t feel it was right to pull you into all this,” he said, obviously trying to defend his cousin’s choice to leave her in the dark. “In fact, he’d be livid if he knew I was here right now,” he added.

Anger warred with grief in her heart. So he would’ve rather she think he didn’t care about her? That his family hated her? The idea made her irrationally angry… and the anger made her feel incredibly guilty. He was bloody _dying_. He was dying and he’d chosen to spend some of his last days with _her_ , and here she was being pissed at him. “I have to see him, Jack,” she said, pulling her hands from his and standing. Whatever his reasons were for not telling her… she had to see him and tell him… tell him she didn’t care. That she wasn’t gonna leave him. That she wanted to be there for him. With him. 

“Hang on, Rose… there’s more,” Jack said, taking her hand again. “There’s a chance we can save him.”

“What? How?” she asked, a swooping feeling of hope dipping in to pull her mind from the pool of grief and confusion it was wallowing in. 

“Well… that’s what I’m here for. We need your help.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

John woke with a start… his heart racing and his breath strained. Pain seemed to pour through him along with the blazing awareness that he was awake. He heard a loud groan issue from his own throat and was powerless to prevent it. 

The very small part of him that was lucid enough to realize it was morning sent bolts of anxiety through him. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off? What time was it?

Allowing the muscles around his eyes to relax enough to open them, he turned his head to the side and took in the numbers on the nightstand clock. Eight o’clock. What the…

Turning over carefully, John sat up slowly and gingerly swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet met the floor like they had every other day of his life, but this time the contact generated bolts of pain that darted from the souls of his feet up through his calves and thighs to settle firmly in his hips. An agonized shout escaped him with the sharp stabs moving through his legs.

The door to his room flung open suddenly with Donna pushing her way through it. “John! Are you okay?!” she barked, jumping to his side to cup his face.

Gathering himself enough to grunt out a “Yeah,” he squeezed his eyes shut to try to once again put his pain aside.

“No you’re not,” Donna accused. 

“Why didn’t… my alarm go… off,” he panted, working to draw enough breath to support speech.

Donna’s eyes looked apologetic. “Oh, John… I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you. We’re postponed until later this afternoon,” she explained as she fawned over him, encouraging him lie back down.

“What do you… mean?” he puffed, resisting Donna’s efforts. Harry was only going to be gone until later this afternoon… he was probably going to be back by tea.

“The symposium was postponed until next week. Jack was able to find a way to keep Saxon busy for a good part of the day, though, so we’re still on, but not until this afternoon. We can head out around half-three.”

Relief played through him. Okay… not cancelled, just postponed. He could do postponed. 

“How does Jack plan to get Harry out of his lab?” he asked, his brows creased. He knew his rival practically lived there. His grad students regularly made jokes about Harry’s vampiric tendency to hide himself in there and come out only when the sun had gone down.

Donna merely waved the question away. “I have no idea. All I know is that he’s arranged it. That’s good enough for me,” she explained, a bit too dismissively. She was lying. 

Studying her put on expression of nonchalance, he thought about insisting she let him in on the full plan, but honestly… he didn’t have it in him right now. And really, what did it matter? Harry wasn’t going to be there and they were going to be able to get him to his equipment. That’s what really mattered.

“Now. Lie down,” she demanded. Sighing, he acquiesced and let Donna help him lie back. “You just rest while I make you something to eat,” she advised him. “Can’t let you lose any more weight or there won’t be enough of you left to bring to the Uni later.”

Normally he’d balk at the comment, but he truly didn’t have the strength. Instead, he merely nodded and relaxed his head further into the pillow under it. Donna pulled the sheets up to just under his chin, effectively tucking him in like their mother used to do. The symbolic gesture wasn’t lost on him. She felt responsible for him. It was a feeling he could deeply relate to. He felt responsible for her as well. And in truth, he was not only responsible for her. He was responsible for Rose and Jack and...well, everyone. Because if he didn’t make it, Harry would continue his work and… well, it wasn’t ridiculous to think that in the long run, he’d somehow manage to destroy life on this planet as it was known. So whatever Jack and Donna had planned to get Harry out of the way this afternoon, he desperately hoped it worked. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

Rose reached the restaurant at 5:00 and waited just outside the front doors. It wasn’t a warm evening, but it also wasn’t raining, so Rose counted that as acceptable enough weather to warrant her standing out in it. Her need for fresh air right now trumped her desire for warmth. The chilly breeze played at her face and she closed her eyes in an effort to relax. 

Today had been a whirlwind of activity and emotion and it was hard to believe that only yesterday she’d thought John was actually a bit of a prat for letting his sister convince him she wasn’t worth his time. Shame bubbled within her with the thought. Her petty scenario seemed so trivial now that she knew the truth. Having John’s cousin knock on her door at six something in the morning had been surreal, but what she’d learned… it had been… well, to say it had been a shock to learn about John’s condition would be a gross understatement. The heartbreak she’d been feeling about his apparent disinterest in her was like a relaxing massage compared to the intensity of the pain her heart suffered with Jack’s news. 

When he left, Rose had broken down and allowed herself a good, pillow soaking cry. How John had been able to act like nothing was happening, while at the same time being so supportive of her small victories over her petty fears was simply beyond her. And while she was still irked that he hadn’t actually told her himself, she had to admit she honestly couldn’t imagine what she’d do in his situation. Really, she had no right to even pretend to imagine herself in his shoes at the moment. She may well have decided to do exactly as he had.

“Hello, Rose,” a familiar voice almost sang. 

Rose’s stomach twisted. Showtime. 

Pasting a smile on her face, she looked up. Harry Saxon stood before her, dressed impeccably in a well tailored grey suit. The white dress shirt under it was unbuttoned to the second button in an effort to look a bit more casual. Doing her best to sound enthusiastic, she replied brightly, “Hi, Harry!”

Standing back a bit, he looked her up and down and nodded in appreciation. She hadn’t wanted to wear the same little dress she’d worn on her date with John, but in the end she’d had little choice… she didn’t own anything else at the moment. “You look… stunning,” Harry said, as if his approval was what she had been waiting for. She wondered if he had expected her to show up in jeans and a stained t-shirt after his comment about her financial neediness last time they met. 

“Thanks,” she said, working to sound appreciative of his positive endorsement of her attire. Looking him up and down, she begrudgingly had to admit he looked rather dashing. The tailored charcoal grey suit cleaned him up nicely. “You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she admitted, seeing as she should be making this evening look as authentic as possible.

He responded with a flirty smile and a twitch of an eyebrow that sort of made her wish she hadn’t said it. “Shall we?” he said, gesturing for her to enter the restaurant.

“Sure,” she grinned, being purposefully flirtatious. 

Opening the door, he allowed her to lead the way. Within moments she felt his hand on the small of her back and she did her best to suppress a shiver. This was going to be a very long night.


	13. Implementation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh… this chapter was fun to write. Lots of juicy interactions and feels to dig my evil writing talons into. Hope you like!

### Running Out : Chapter 13 - Implementation

The drive to the Uni resulted in misery John had to admit he hadn’t considered might accompany him. It seemed every surface of his body that met with any pressure felt like it was being pierced with red hot pokers. He’d never before appreciated the complexity of dressing and walking and even eating before today. Every movement he insisted his body complete caused nearly overwhelming torment. He’d barely made it into the car and if it hadn’t been for Jack and Donna nearly carrying him he would still be at home trying to make it to the vehicle.

Having been carefully deposited into the backseat, he closed his eyes and once again tried to will the pain away, but the effort was largely futile. It seemed his body was finding it more and more difficult to rally after each agonizing attack. Now, despite the cure being so close, he was starting to wonder if he was going to last long enough to save himself. Once he’d decided to live, he hadn’t considered that his body might not last long enough for him to save it. But here he was. The world was spinning, his chest ached from pulling in breath, and his body was on fire with pain. He didn’t have long and he was beginning to understand that he was living on borrowed time.

“How’s he doing?” he heard Jack ask from the front seat. 

A movement issued from… wait, was he lying down? The soft pull of fingers through his hair alerted him to the fact that his head was on someone’s lap.

“Not good,” he heard Donna’s worried voice reply. “He’s burning up.”

Opening his eyes, he tried to focus the blurry blobs of colour swimming before them. He was unable. Brilliant. “Donna…”

“Shhhh,” she advised him, once again patting his head in a motherly fashion. 

“Donna… got to… tell you…” he panted. Talking was getting more and more difficult. “If I… don’t make it…”

“Shut it,” she said shortly. “Stop talking like that. You’re gonna make it. Now shut your gob and save your energy for saving yourself, yeah?” she snapped, her voice tight with emotion. 

Not dissuaded, he continued, “Tell Rose… I’m… sorry. Tell her... “

“You tell her yourself,” Donna interrupted a bit tersely. “Now rest,” she insisted, her tone broaching no argument.

Despite the pain and the very real fact that he was dying, he couldn’t help but find a small smile for his sibling. Only she would give a dying man shit. What would he ever have done without her?

Sliding his eyes closed, he tried to ignore the insistent ache pushing through his body by focusing on the hum of the car around him. The sudden sensation of something moving on on his temple startled him a bit before he realized what it was. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, feeling the wet tear trail down his forehead before Donna’s cool fingers whisked it away. His heart broke for his sister. She needed him just like he needed her. He shivered to imagine how he’d feel in her position. Losing her would be devastating. Around him he felt her body shudder and a small sob escaped her. “Donna… Love you,” he breathed, trying to reassure her even as he felt the world around him becoming darker. 

“Love you too, Spaceman,” he thought he heard her whisper just before his awareness of the world completely slipped away. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoO

 

“Sooo… how do you know John Smith?” Harry asked casually, making the hairs on the back of Rose’s neck prickle in discomfort. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. 

They’d eaten their admittedly fantastic meal already and she’d worked all evening to keep him talking. Of course the topics had largely been centered around _him_ , which, on any other date she’d have found tedious. Today, though, Rose didn’t mind at all. She had absolutely no desire to share much about herself with this man. She’d made sure, therefore, to steer the conversations back to his favourite topic… himself… as often as possible. This question, though, had taken her by surprise. 

“Oh, uh… we, uh… we dated. For a while,” she admitted. She wasn’t prepared to share any details, but she was generally a terrible liar and she knew she was better off giving him as much truth as possible. If what her mates and Mickey had said in the past had been true, Harry would know straight away if she was feeding him a bald-faced lie.

Harry appeared to be quite enthralled by her admission and leaned in a bit. “Did you?” he asked. 

Rose nodded, biting her lip unconsciously. “He… we broke it off recently,” she shared.

“Ohhhh… so he’s the one… the bloke you were talking about when we talked in the shop,” he said, obviously trying to look concerned for her but failing miserably.

“Yeah. That’s him. Look… I’m sorry, but I’d rather not talk about it if that’s alright. It was… well, it was hard for me,” she shared. She definitely wasn’t lying about that.

A warm hand landed on top of hers on the table. She had to fight her instinct to pull her own away. “I understand. I’m sorry it was such a negative experience for you,” he said with poorly acted sorrow. “John… he obviously didn’t realize what he was passing up,” he said, his comment dripping with sentiment as he gently smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand.

Rose swallowed her discomfort at the intimate gesture and put on a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“He never was a good judge of character,” Harry went on. “I, on the other hand, consider myself to be an exquisite judge of character. Take you, for instance,” he began, leaning in even further. “You’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you could do so much more with your life than work in a shop,” he posited.

Rose felt her ire rise but worked to tamp it down. “Oh yeah? How’s that?” she said as pleasantly as she could muster.

“Well… you’ve got an incredible body. Have you ever thought of, I don’t know… modeling?” he said, his lips quirking up in a leer.

Rose looked down… mostly so he wouldn’t see the disgust at his very obvious attempt to get in her pants… but also so he might think she was actually flattered by the comment. “Well, thanks,” she said, trying to sound bashful.

“Then again… maybe you’d like to travel,” he tried, leaning back while still studying her. “I have a feeling that it wouldn’t take much to convince you to leave that dreadful job if someone offered you even a hint of adventure,” he surmised. 

So now she’d drop anything and just jump at the chance to throw away her life?! How dare he just assume her existence was so dreadful that she’d leap at the opportunity to run away from it. A seething dislike for the prat sitting across from her wriggled through her and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from telling him to shove his encouragement up his arse.

“Rose…” he said before she felt his fingers under her chin tipping her face up so she’d look at him. “The things I could show you,” he said, his eyes intense. “He could never have given you what I could,” he said earnestly. “I have nothing but time at my disposal and I know you would flourish if you were given the right encouragement,” he drawled.

Cause she wasn’t flourishing now? 

Then it occurred to her the full meaning of his comment. He had nothing but time at his disposal, as opposed to John, who had none. Bile rose in her throat. He was actually pleased that John was dying and he was even preening over the fact he was going to live a full life, unlike John.

Trying to quash her desire to punch this man squarely in the jaw, she tacked on a shy smile. “I, uh… I honestly don’t know what to say,” she said. Once again, honestly was the order of the day.

Drawing his thumb along her jaw, he cocked his head slightly as if studying a budding flower. “Say you’ll go out with me again. Say you’ll let me show you things you could only have dreamed of before now,” he said with quiet intensity.

Once again amazed at this man’s audacity, Rose smiled purposefully and nodded. “I think I might like that,” she said, hoping quite desperately she was at least passing this lie off with some level of authenticity.

A bright smile shone on Harry’s face in response and he dropped his hand to cover hers once again. “I hoped you would say that,” he admitted. Then, looking around, he suggested, “It’s nearly eight… did you want to… I don’t know… maybe go somewhere else? Pick up some dessert somewhere?” he suggested. “I know a little cafe not far from here with the best cakes in London.”

Her wants and her answer were completely at odds and she knew it. But John needed her and it was too early to let Harry go. Jack was very clear that they would need time… that if she could try her best to keep Harry busy until at least ten or half-ten, she’d have done them a great service. “That sounds lovely,” she said, tossing him a tongue touched smile.

“Wonderful. Shall we go?” he suggested, standing and holding out his hand for her to take. Playing her part, she took it and they headed out. 

The cafe wasn’t far, just as Harry had promised. She ordered a tea and a half slice of dark chocolate cake and Harry ordered a coffee and a piece of cherry pie. Once again, Rose did her best to keep him talking, but the time seemed to tick by so slowly. Finally, after lingering over her second cup of tea and covertly checking her watch (again), the inevitable moment came. 

“Well… maybe we should go?” Harry suggested.

Knowing it was still too early to let him go for the night, Rose gave him her best flirty smile. “But… it’s still early?” she said hopefully.

An attempt at a sexy smirk lit Harry’s face. “Enjoying yourself?” he said, obviously quite sure she must be. 

“What can I say?” she said with a tongue touched smile. “I like intelligent conversation,” she grinned.

She swore she could almost see his chest puff up with the acknowledgement of his lofty IQ. “I can understand that,” he agreed, studying her for a moment. She began to feel a bit uncomfortable under his gaze before he said lowly, “I believe I know where you would like to be.” 

Rose swallowed. She had a sick idea where this was going. “You do?”

“Oh, yes. Come with me,” he said, standing and offering her his hand.

The illness she’d felt with Harry’s earlier attempt at closeness was nothing compared to the almost overpowering nausea she felt with this current innuendo. She honestly wasn’t sure she could sell the lie that was required for this interaction to continue. Thankfully, he took care of it. Pulling her hand into his, he led her from the the table and out into the street. 

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

The Uni was still bustling with students when Jack pulled up behind the physics building in the late afternoon with Donna still cradling her brother’s head in her lap. John had passed out a while back and Jack and Donna had spent the time driving in tense silence, both willing the journey to be completed faster. When they finally arrived, Jack jumped out of the car and quickly rounded it to open the back door. What he found there made his anxiety spike. John looked horrid. Sweat beaded on his brow and his skin was so pale it was practically blue. 

Behind him he heard the building door creak open. “John?” Sarah Jane’s voice rang out in worry, her footsteps fast approaching. 

“He’s here, Sarah. He’s not good,” he warned her before she reached them. 

“Oh my God,” she breathed, grasping Jack’s arm on seeing John’s sickly form prostrate in the back seat. 

“Yeah. Look… I’m going to have to carry him,” Jack explained, pulling John up to a slumped sitting position with Donna’s help. An agonized groan escaped his cousin making Jack wince. Poor bastard must be in incredible pain.

“Of course,” Sarah agreed, making room for Jack to pull John out, up and over his shoulder. A sharp gasp issued from his cousin with the movement. “Oh, John,” Sarah worried, following Jack and Donna into the building. “How long has he been like this?” she asked as she led them up a rarely used staircase. 

“He’s been bad for a few days, but this morning… well, this is the worst I’ve ever seen him,” Jack shared. The man over his shoulder punctuated his sentiment with a low moan. Donna ran her hand over John’s forehead as he dangled over Jack’s shoulder.

“Donna…” John’s voice croaked.

“I’m here,” she assured him, stroking his back as they continued moving. “We’re nearly at the lab, John.”

“Rose?” he whispered.

“No, love. She’s not here. But you’ll see her soon. Just hang in there, yeah?” Donna entreated, worry permeating her voice.

“Rose…” he repeated groggily. 

“How is he going to get everything ready once we get there?” Sarah worried, looking back at her friend. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Jack assured her. “We’ve gotten him this far. He’ll be able to do it. He has to,” he stated. He knew he sounded more sure than he felt. In reality he was terrified John might actually be beyond being able to do what had to be done. He couldn’t give up hope, though. He loved John like a brother and after all they’d gone through together, he’d be damned if the skinny, brilliant bugger went and died on him now.


	14. Calculated Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, friends. You know how I said this was a romance? Well… I’ve been working to keep my muse at bay and only have been mildly successful thus far, as you’ve read. I’m afraid, though, that she knocked me out cold for this chapter and set to work on her own without my calming influence. 
> 
> Hence this warning. There is non-con in the second half of this chapter, so if that is a trigger for you, please do not read it. Feel free to e-mail or message me and I’ll fill you in on the details if you’d like to skip it. 
> 
> For those of you deciding to read on, my muse invites you to strap yourself in and hang on…

### Running Out : Chapter 14 - Calculated Risk

The lab was on the third floor, which meant having to ascend a good number of stairs with the dead weight of his cousin on his back. Not that John was heavy… he wasn’t… but Jack was desperately aware that any jostling movement brought with it a world of misery for him. He was therefore trying his damnedest to move smoothly which was harder than he thought it would be.

Finally, having nearly been seen by passing students on two occasions, they made it to the door of Saxon’s lab. Sarah pushed her key hurriedly into the lock and quickly ushered them in before closing it behind her and securing it once again.

Moving to the wall, she flicked the light switch on to reveal a room full of scientific equipment. Relief spread through him. They made it. So far, so good.

“Bring him over here,” Sarah directed him as she moved toward a long table nearly obscured by beakers and burners in the middle of the room. Doing as instructed, he moved his cousin to the table and into a rolling chair sitting beside it. Contact with the chair actually caused John to keen in pain. “Fuck. Sorry, Doc,” Jack apologized as the sound issued in his ear. John’s eyes actually opened as Donna and Sarah helped to adjust him in the chair. “Jack?”

“Yeah, Doc… I’m here. We’re in Saxon’s lab,” he informed him, kneeling down so John could see his face. 

Blinking, obviously in an effort to clear his vision, John looked around. “I… I can’t see,” he admitted. 

“Oh, my God,” Donna whispered, her hand flying to her mouth, obviously trying to hold back tears.

“That’s okay, Doc. Just tell us what to do. Sarah’s here. She can help,” he assured him. John nodded his understanding, and then screwed his face up and held his breath. Jack felt himself do the same as he waited for this current wave of agony to pass. The pain must be excruciating.

Finally, whatever torment that had gripped him eased up at least enough for John to grunt out some instructions. “Arton... will be... in a tank. Looks like... oxygen,” he puffed with effort.

“I’m on it,” Sarah volunteered, quickly beginning a search of the lab.

“Jack… the teleporter… bring me…” he grunted, his eyes half mast.

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Jack agreed, moving to roll the chair over to what he assumed was the teleportation machine. He’d never actually seen the thing, but John had spent many a night describing it and it’s various mechanical workings, so Jack was pretty sure this was it. It sort of looked like an old fashioned police box. John had once explained that the item being transported would be placed inside and that the technology that actually made it happen was encased in the shell of the box. The intended destination of the item being transported was another identical box placed on the opposite side of the room which was apparently somehow linked to the first box through some property of a larger energy field John called a ‘vortex’. Frankly, the entire concept was so far beyond Jack’s understanding that he’d given up even trying to understand it a long time ago. 

“Around back…” John directed as they drew near. Jack drove the chair around the back of the box. “Screwdriver,” John said, nodding toward a table nearby. Jumping to the table, Jack found what he was looking for. 

“What do you need me to do,” he asked. 

“The panel… take it off…” he directed. 

Jack set to work removing the large panel on the back of the box. “So… can you see anything at all, Doc?” he asked, mostly to make sure John was staying awake as he worked.

John swallowed thickly. “Colours,” he replied. “Shapes.”

“Right,” he nodded. Removing the panel, he placed it gingerly on the floor beside them. “Okay, done. Now what?” he asked, looking at the complicated array of wires and computer chips.

“On the bottom… I need… to rewire… reverse the polarity…” he managed to breathe.

“Okay… tell me what to do,” Jack offered, kneeling down to access the lower part of the technology before him. When he didn’t get an answer, he turned to find John’s eyes had slid shut. Damnit.

“Doc?” he said in an effort to bring his cousin back.

John’s lids half opened. “Connected to… the phase shift... calibrating device…” his voice now barely a whisper, “...a yellow wire…”

“Which one is the phase device?” Jack asked, looked bewilderedly at the nonsensical connections in front of him.

“Silver. Oblong… six wires… from top,” John tried to explain, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“We found it,” Sarah said as she emerged triumphantly from the other side of the machine holding a cannister of what Jack assumed was the arton energy John had been talking about.

“Sarah… it needs… to be released... into the air with... me inside the...TARDIS,” John explained breathlessly.

“TARDIS?” Jack asked, turning to look at Sarah.

“Teleporting And Releasing Distinguished Ions System,” she explained. “He’d decided on calling the device a TARDIS only a couple of days before the accident,” she elaborated.

“How ‘bout I put it in there. Maybe you should be the one helping him here,” Jack admitted. “I don’t understand anything he’s saying. You’ll be much more useful to him than I am.”

“Alright,” Sarah Jane agreed, moving to take Jack’s place beside the open panel. 

“Jack,” John said weakly before Jack got a chance to move. “Thanks.”

Jack smiled even though he knew John couldn’t see him. “Yeah… don’t thank me yet,” he cautioned him. “Let’s get you fixed up and then you can thank me,” he advised.

A feeble smile lighted on John’s lips even as his eyes closed once again.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

They pulled up to a very posh high rise and Harry stopped right in front of it making Rose’s stomach clench with discomfort. She’d naively hoped that maybe he was going to take her to a quiet wine bar or something, but deep down she’d known this was where he was headed. His place. 

For a moment she considered telling him she was actually knackered and that she should probably get home, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She needed to stop him from heading back to the Uni for a while yet. Hopefully she could keep things light and un-handsy until she felt she’d given John enough time. 

Giving her a little smile, Harry stepped out of the car to open Rose’s door. Memories of John doing the same slid through her mind, making Harry’s attempt at gallantry actually hurt her inside. She wished so deeply it was John instead of this selfish prat offering her his hand right now. 

It wasn’t though. And Rose had a job to do. 

Accepting Harry’s offer to help her from the vehicle, she stepped out and took in the sculpted entryway in awe. This place had to be extraordinarily expensive. 

A valet stepped up and held out his palm. “Sir,” he said formally. Not even acknowledging the man’s presence other than to drop his car keys in his hand, Harry offered Rose his arm and led her toward the ornate doors of the building. God… he even had someone to park his car for him, she mused.

As they approached, an elderly doorman pulled on the massive handle of one of the double doors to allow them entry. “Good evening, Dr. Saxon,” he said formally. Once again, Harry passed without any seeming awareness that anything had been said to him. He obviously not only expected such treatment, but actively dismissed it in order to emphasize his clear superiority. Yet another thing she could add to her list of reasons she actually hated this man… the first and foremost being, of course, the fact that he had actively denied John the only thing that he knew could save him. How anyone could be so cruel… so self serving… she truly couldn’t comprehend it.

They made their way to the elevator which Harry summoned. Her hand was draped through his arm and while they waited he took this opportunity to cover it with his own. Making herself allow the contact and even appear to welcome it took all her willpower. 

Stepping into the lift, Harry moved to insert a key into a slot just under the numbered buttons on the panel beside the door. As the box began ascending, she caught Harry looking at her from the corner of her eye as she studied the lit display of floor numbers passing by one by one. Finally, their movement halted at the highest number. The penthouse. 

She thought she saw Harry smirk at her exhale of breath as the door opened. He was obviously pleased by her reaction. Stepping out of the lift directly into the flat, she actually felt her jaw drop. He was a professor, of course, and therefore used to more money than she would ever hope to see, but she was pretty sure they weren’t usually this well off. This place was… _exquisite_. 

As if reading her mind, he said, “My parents were owners of Dalek Industries. They passed last year and left me this place,” he explained. “They had wanted me to take over the company, but I was a bit of a rebel, I’m afraid. Had bigger dreams,” he shared.

Rose nodded, looking around. The place was incredible. The artwork alone was surely worth more than all of the Powell Estate. Funny, though… Jack had said that Harry rarely left the Uni. If she had a flat like this she’d probably never want to leave it. This place, on the other hand, looked hardly lived in.

“Make yourself at home,” Harry suggested, gesturing for her to enter the living room. "I’ll be right back,” he said, moving into the kitchen.

Slowly walking into the perfectly, if impersonally decorated living room, Rose took it in. An ornate fireplace stood proudly in the centre of the wall and above it a clearly expensive splattery painting hung with a spotlight shining on it from an inset bulb in the ceiling. The furniture was plush leather and a Persian rug supported it all. It was all… perfect. Pristine. 

Walking over to the fireplace she looked at the only two framed photos in the room. One featured a serious looking older couple in a formal portrait. The other silver framed picture was an older family photo. The same couple that was in the first photo sat posed in a sitting room of some kind with two boys between them. 

“Those are my parents,” Harry’s voice intoned, making her jump. God he was stealthy.

Rose turned her head to find Harry looking at the photo. “They were… very focused people,” he said, not unkindly. Lifting a wine glass full of ruby liquid, he handed it to her. Rose nodded her thanks and looked back at the photo. “Which one is you?” she asked, indicating the two children on the chesterfield between the adults. 

Harry lifted his hand to point at the smaller of the two boys. “That’s me,” he replied. 

Getting a bit closer to study the well groomed child he’d pointed out, she couldn’t help but notice the solemn look on his face. The other boy seemed equally as serious. “Is that your brother?” she asked, looking back at Harry. His jaw tightened a bit with the question, making Rose uncomfortable for some reason. 

“Yes. He was,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back and purposefully guiding her from the mantel. “He passed when I was in my last year of secondary school,” he added without a hint of sadness.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she said dutifully, sure that somewhere under the hard veneer he was showing there must be some glimmer of grief there.

“Thank-you,” he said, encouraging her to sit on the sofa beside him. “He was three years my senior, but even then his intellect didn’t match mine. Still… mother and father saw something worth cultivating in him, I suppose,” he said in remembrance. “Had him primed to take over the throne of Dalek Industries, but then, not a week before he was to begin taking on a more active managerial role, he died. An embolism, they said,” he squinted, as if considering the truth of the diagnosis. “Was a tragic loss,” he added, almost as an afterthought. 

A disquieting feeling skittered up Rose’s spine. As much as she knew he was capable of cruelty… he had purposefully denied a man a life saving treatment, after all… she suddenly had a very strong feeling that he was probably responsible for actions much more purposeful than withholding help from someone.

“What about you, Rose?” he said, turning to face her on the couch. “Everyone’s experienced loss. What was yours?” he asked, actually seeming interested.

Yes… she did know loss. She’d shared her story with John. Now, being faced with letting this damnable man know more about her personal life… it once again made her wish dearly it was her Doctor’s chocolate brown eyes she was looking at instead of those of this megalomaniac. “I, uh... I’m very lucky. I haven’t had to deal with something like that,” she lied. 

Harry’s demeanor turned condescending as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in evaluation. “Rose…” he sighed, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. “I know that’s not true. I can read you like a book,” he stated. “And whatever it is that happened to you… I’m sorry for it,” he said with tenderness, edging closer to her on the seat. His proximity made her shudder, and she hoped it didn’t look like it was out of revulsion.

Leaning in, Harry’s eyes slid shut as his lips neared hers. Leaning back away from him slightly and placing a hand on his chest to distance him, she said, “Harry…” His eyes opened to study hers and his movement ceased. “Harry… I’m sorry… it’s just… it’s too soon for me. After John,” she clarified.

Harry’s eyes hardened instantly. “Rose, you need to move on from him. The man is a menace. He hurt you,” he pointed out. 

“Yes, but... I’m just… I thought I was ready to move on,” she said, hoping she sounded sincere. “But now… faced with it… I don’t know,” she tried.

“You know what, love? You just need to let this happen,” he said, leaning into her again. “Then you’ll appreciate how good life can be without him. I’ll show you what true passion is.” Reaching out, he threaded his fingers through her hair and insistently pulled her lips to his. 

The energy behind the kiss was almost manic as he pressed his dry lips hard against hers, and for the first time tonight, she was actually becoming scared for herself. Pulling her hands up to push against his chest, she managed to free her mouth. “Harry, stop,” she told him, still pushing him away. 

She was now leaning against the armrest of the couch with Harry looming over her. Placing his hands on either side of her head, he pushed himself up to stare down into her eyes. “No, Rose. There is no stopping this now. You want this. You’ve wanted this all night. And now you’re going to get it. I’m going to wipe all traces of _him_ from your body and purge him from your mind so that all you can think of is _me_ ,” he promised grabbing her wrists and holding them down on either side of her head. 

True fear tore through her. He was going to rape her. “Harry, let me go!” she insisted, trying to sound authoritative while squirming and trying to wrestle free from his grip. Leaning down, he pressed himself flush on top of her, grating his pelvis into her hip. His hardness pushed against her sending a fresh shot of adrenaline through her veins. With renewed fervor, she thrashed under him in an effort to free herself, but found him immoveable. 

Transferring one of her hands so he held both with one of his, he reached his free hand down to hike the hem of her dress up and over her hips. “Harry, please… no! Stop!” she entreated before yelling, “HELP! HELP ME!” 

“Scream all you like. No one can hear you from here,” Harry sneered above her. “Except, of course, John,” he said, looking over into the corner of the room with a sick, knowing smile.

Unable to stop herself from doing the same, she saw it. A video recorder. The breath stopped in her lungs. He was recording this. This sick bastard planned to record himself raping her and then planned to show John.

“I had hoped this would be consensual,” he said, his eyes hard, “but I’m just as happy for John to see what power I have over his life this way,” he added. “I don’t know if he told you, but he’s dying. I imagine it’ll happen any day now. I’m just pleased he’ll get to see this little home movie before he passes. He needs to know that nothing he loves is sacred. Nothing he cares about will be safe from me. Even once he’s gone,” he continued.

“You bastard,” she bit. “I promise you’re going to regret this.”

“Oh yes?” he said with amusement. “And who is going to make me? You? No one will believe you. A chav from the Estate accusing a wealthy professor of inappropriate behaviour? Everyone will think that you’re simply making it up to get money out of me. And I promise… John won’t be able to help you. I plan to show him our little encounter when he only has mere hours left, and by then anything he says will be considered the rantings of an incoherent man,” he smirked.

“You have no idea,” she said, finding courage in the knowledge that, while it seemed she was about to be assaulted, at least John wasn’t going to have to suffer for much longer. “You think you’re above the law. Above… everything. But I know something you don’t,” she dared. “I know John. And I know his family. And you will _not_ get away with this,” she said assuredly.

Harry looked at her for a moment, his eyes boring into hers. “You believe that,” he said, suspiciously. “You believe he’ll help you.”

Rose swallowed. She’d said too much. “I believe in justice,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

“No. That’s not it,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “There’s something… else,” he accused.

Rose pressed her lips together. She was caught. Well… she wasn’t going to say anything. She was done talking now. He could do whatever he wanted, she wasn’t going to tell him why she was really here.

Before she could even process it, Harry grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. A cry of surprise and pain escaped her as he pressed his face close to hers. “What is it?” he insisted with a snarl.

Keeping her mouth resolutely closed, she shot him a look of defiance. He could do whatever he wanted to her. She wasn’t going to tell him. Right now, John was probably very close to saving himself and she wasn’t going to allow Harry to stop it.

Another hard yank of her hair and extended stretch of her neck reaffirmed that Harry was now truly worried. If the position wasn’t as painful as it was, she might have smiled. He _should_ be worried.

Then something happened that made Rose’s blood run cold. A sudden look of realization crossed Harry’s face, and with it, a fresh bolt of anxiety shot through her. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t. She watched with growing alarm as awareness changed to cold fury on Harry’s features. “You,” he bit, his voice hard.

Rose felt her eyes widen. “Me?”

“You asked me out tonight,” he said incredulously, “to get me out of the lab. You’re a distraction so he can access his precious equipment!” he accused, before forcefully pulling her up by her ear. Rose yelped with the fierce yank and tears sprung to her eyes. “You fucking _whore_!” he railed, slapping her soundly across the face hard enough to make her ears ring. 

Before she could recover he’d grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off the couch and onto her feet. Dragging her to the kitchen, Harry yanked a drawer open forcefully and pulled out a length of rope before he pushed her brutally to the floor. Her head hit hard sending stars careening across her vision. 

For a moment, she felt the pain of contact but it didn’t last long. What took its place was a welcome peace she knew she shouldn’t be giving in to. To do so was dangerous. There was a reason she must stay awake. She couldn’t let it take her. Feeling herself floating toward the dark, she scrambled to cling onto awareness. Her internal battle was apparently futile, though, as it seemed her brain had other ideas. 

Within moments, she was engulfed in dark warmth, surrounded by a black velvet sky.


	15. Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting ready for FanExpo in Vancouver... Karen Gillan and John Barrowman!!! SQUEEEEE!!! I'm just a BIT excited. Anyhow... I'm hoping to post again mid-week, but I'll not make promises. My son wanted me to draw a picture of Scott Wilson of the Walking Dead, so I'm feverishly trying to get that done before the Expo next weekend. I should be back to my regular posting schedule after the Expo, though :) 
> 
> Anyhow... this chapter is a bit stressful for our heroes. Hold on tight!

### Running Out : Chapter 15 - Contact 

Agony filled her awareness and she squeezed her eyes shut in order to cope with it. Vaguely she felt her body moving. Shifting. A hazy fog that made the universe move in incomprehensible ways seemed to settle over her. She heard a voice… a man’s voice… angry. Chancing it, she opened her eyes. She was lying down. Attempting to rub her forehead, she found her hands bound behind her back.

Alarm swiftly cleared the mental haze and she suddenly realized where she was. She was in a car. Noise from around her began to make sense and the angry sounds morphed into words. “...wouldn’t find out? As if his fucking whore could keep a bloody secret!” Harry’s voice ranted. 

The car bumped and jostled as it slowed to a stop, instantly sending bolts of adrenaline through her. She wasn’t sure where they were, but she had a good idea they were probably at the Uni, and she had to try to distract him… stop him from interrupting John. There was no way she was going to overpower Saxon at the moment. He was pumped full of anger and violent energy. Deciding she had to use his assumption that she was still unconscious to her advantage, she made herself go limp.

The back door of the car flew open and rough hands grabbed her, pulling her fiercely from the vehicle. It took all her concentration not to tense in fear as he dragged her over his shoulder, nearly clunking her head against the side of the car as he did so. 

Continuing to curse under his breath, Harry trudged forward with his hands gripping her legs tightly to anchor her to him. They paused for a moment and Rose used the opportunity to chance a look. They were behind some building in a poorly lit alley. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like they were on campus, and were now about to cross the threshold of some building through a service door he’d just unlocked.

Deciding it was now or never, she quickly drew her leg back at the knee and swung forward with her foot as hard as she could, aiming for the most sensitive part of him. The result was instant. A squeal of pain issued from the man beneath her and he released her, dropping her painfully to the ground. Luckily she fell on her side instead of directly on her face, but the fall jarred her already aching head making it pound in protest. Knowing she didn’t have time to waste despite the pain, she shoved herself away from Harry who was now doubled over, cursing loudly. Scrambling to her feet, she fumbled through the door, turning and using her bound hands to close it behind her. 

The curses on the other side of the door morphed into shouts and she wasted no time scampering up the stairs to her right in an effort to put distance between herself and the crazed man behind her. Each step reverberated painfully in her head as she ascended, but she didn’t slow. Below she heard the door hit the wall loudly. He was coming.

Reaching the second floor landing, she contorted to reach for the handle of the door leading into the hallway and managed to pull it open, lurching into the corridor. She had to get to John before Harry. She had to warn him. 

The problem was that she had no idea where he was. They were presumably in the physics building, but he could be anywhere. Running through the hall, she read the signs beside the doors as she passed. Nothing so far indicated anyone of them housed a lab. 

Behind her, Harry emerged from the stairwell, doing nothing to hide his fury with her. Redoubling her efforts, she turned a corner ahead and peeked in a few of the door windows as she passed. All were empty. Coming to the end of the hall, she found another stairwell and launched herself toward it, hurdling herself up the worn steps as quickly as she could manage. 

Harry was closer now, his footsteps closing in on her as she pushed ahead. The third floor landing emerged before her as Saxon’s footfalls echoed in the stairwell only a meager few feet behind her own. Clawing the door open awkwardly, she plunged through it, dashing into the hall beyond. 

A wild grunt flew from the man behind her and suddenly she found him baring down on her, sending her tumbling to the floor. The impact left her gasping for breath, but she didn’t have time to even make sense of it before Harry was flipping her over beneath him. Grabbing her face cruelly, he leaned in close, every muscle in his body tense with fury. “You’ll pay for that, you fuckin’ slag,” he promised her. “And so will John.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

“How much longer?” Donna asked for what seemed liked the hundredth time from her station by the door.

Pacing, Jack answered as he had the last four or five times she’d asked. “Sarah said not long,” he reiterated.

Donna nodded. He understood her worry. It was already half-ten. Sarah had shared that Saxon regularly slept in the lab on a cot in the corner, and there was no telling if he planned to do so tonight after his ‘date’ with Rose. 

Saxon and Rose. John didn’t know about that particular part of the plan, which had been a purposeful lie of omission on his part. If his cousin had known he would have flatly refused the idea which would’ve left them floating up shit creek and John floating down the river Styx. 

Memories of his conversation with her this morning floated through his mind and once again he thanked every single deity in the universe that she’d agreed to help. He’d never have asked her, and frankly, considering what Donna had told him, that she’d spotted Rose and Harry together, he wasn’t sure he should. What if she was actually really interested in Saxon? If she felt some sort of loyalty to him now? But after the symposium was cancelled he knew there were few options and frankly, this was the only idea he could think of that could give them the time they needed. And honestly, even though he’d only met Rose once, he couldn’t picture her actually truly ever getting serious with Harry. She was sweet and empathetic and Harry was anything but. So he’d taken a chance and told her about John. 

Her reaction had been what he’d expected… she was shocked and hurt. And completely disgusted with Saxon. Apparently her ‘date’ with Harry had been nothing but a pity dinner and she’d actually never intended it to go anywhere beyond that. In fact, she’d been quite disgusted with his attitude and behaviour, which was no surprise to Jack. The man was a menace. Never mind that Jack had a vested interest in her feeling that way for this plan to work; he was also relieved she hadn’t fallen for Harry’s ‘charm’ simply because he was a bottom feeder and she deserved so much better than him. Not to mention that now that John actually had a potential future, he really hoped she’d want to be part of it. His cousin deserved happiness.

Once he’d told his story, Rose had been completely eager to help, which he was desperately thankful for. He shared his idea about how she might be able to keep Harry away from the lab tonight… by inviting him out on a ‘date’, as it were, and keeping him busy for as long as possible without putting herself at risk. He’d made sure to make that part clear. If Saxon was capable of doing what he’d been doing to John… he wasn’t above doing worse. 

Anyhow, if all went according to plan, Rose and Harry’s evening either just ended or it was over up to half an hour ago. If Harry was going to return here, it could be anytime now.

Looking at his watch again, he chewed his lip. 10:35. He knew Sarah was doing her best and that it was anything but easy. John was clinging to consciousness only barely and regularly needed waking to continue giving her instructions. He tried a few times to join them behind the ‘TARDIS’ in an effort to help, but ended up just getting shooed away by Sarah for distracting them. Agreeing that he was doing nothing helpful, he removed himself and spent the interim time keeping watch with Donna and pacing. 

Finally, from the other side of the lab Sarah Jane called, “Okay, we’re finished.” 

Relief and excitement poured through him. 

“That’s more like it,” Donna said, hope filling her voice. Jack couldn’t agree more. Both of them moved quickly to join John and Sarah Jane, who was wiping her brow and stepping back from the panel she’d obviously just replaced. “Done,” she confirmed, looking at the device with satisfaction before turning to look at John who was slumped in the chair beside her, his eyes half mast. 

Kneeling, Jack laid his hand gently on his cousin’s shoulder. “Hey, Doc. You did it. Now what?” he asked, unable to ignore the sheen of sweat now covering every visible surface of John’s body. His breaths were now so shallow that Jack had to consciously look for the rise and fall of the man’s chest just to be sure he was actually still breathing. “Done…” John mumbled, his eyes glazed.

“That’s right. You said you had to sit inside the… TARDIS, right?”

John’s seemed to spark up a bit with the word and he nodded. 

“Right. Let’s get him into it,” Jack directed, looking to Sarah Jane and Donna for help. Rolling the chair around to the other side of the machine, they placed it as close to the door of the teleporter as they could. Donna quickly moved to open the door and Sarah Jane grabbed the cannister of arton that he’d been directed to place there. 

As gingerly as he could, Jack slid John’s arm over his shoulder and very slowly pulled him to standing. An involuntary groan left his cousin with the movement, but Jack continued. They had no time to waste.

Moving carefully, he managed to get John seated inside the machine. “Arton,” John breathed.

“Yeah, it’s right here, Doc,” Jack assured him, taking the cannister from Sarah Jane and placing it in the box beside John. “Okay, Sarah Jane… he said we needed to release the arton gas into the TARDIS with him, right?”

Sarah Jane nodded. “Yes. Once it’s had a few moments to fill the box, I’ll activate the TARDIS from out here,” she said, indicating a panel a few steps away. 

Nodding, Jack reached for the cannister and released the seal. A slow hiss began emanating from the container. 

“Alright, cuz,” Jack said, patting John gently on the knee. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” John’s eyes opened briefly before sliding closed again. 

Backing up, he slowly closed the door of the machine. “Okay, Sarah Jane… let’s get this going,” he said, turning to find both her and Donna near the controls.

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” a self assured baritone voice announced from the door. 

Harry. Jack felt his heart stop. Fuck.

Spinning in place, he drew in a startled breath. Saxon wasn’t alone. Held tightly to his chest with a knife pressed against her throat, was Rose.

“Oh my God,” he heard Donna gasp. 

Harry smiled, contorting his face into a cruel mask. “Close enough,” he sneered. “Now. Dr. Smith…Donna... if you’d both be so kind as to move away from the controls,” he directed, digging the knife into Rose’s neck enough that she drew in a sharp breath.

Jack’s hands flew up in surrender. “Harry… let her go,” he warned.

Harry let out a barked laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so,” he scoffed. “Now I would suggest you all do as I say. I’m rather out of patience and to be honest, John’s cheap slag here is out of time,” he said almost pleasantly. 

“Help John, Jack! Please!” Rose shouted frantically. 

 

Harry growled and stuck the knife up to her cheek, pulling it down and through her skin. Rose cried out in pain as blood welled up and spilled down her face. 

“Okay! They’re backing away!” Jack said, nodding brusquely to Sarah and Donna. The others stuck their hands in the air as well and took a step away from the controls. 

“Good. Now Jack, you’ll be wanting to remove my dearest friend from inside my machine. I would suggest you do so _very carefully_. You wouldn’t want to try something foolish and accidently end the life of your little puppet here,” he suggested.

Jack’s jaw tensed with the threat. God… what he wouldn’t do for a weapon right now. Nodding his agreement, he slowly stepped back toward the door of the TARDIS. 

Before he even reached for the handle, though, Harry let out a howl. Jack’s head spun quickly to find Rose had somehow managed to free herself. Harry was clutching his bullocks and was doubled over. 

“Donna! Now!” Rose shouted, clambering forward and away from Saxon.

Seeing her opportunity, Donna had already begun moving. Jack looked over in time to see her hand connect with the big red button in the center of the console. 

A whooshing, whirring noise suddenly filled the air in the lab and a light on top of the blue box pulsed in time with the increasing and decreasing bellow of the grinding machine. 

“NOOOO!” Harry hollered, his rage palpable. “Fucking BITCH!” he spat, pulling his arm back.

“Rose! Watch out!” Jack yelled, catching light glinting off of metal protruding from Harry’s hand. He was too late, though. Before she could even react, Saxon had hurled the knife directly at her. Rose must’ve made the connection at just that moment, because she began turning to look behind her, but not before the blade embedded itself in her back just under her shoulder blade. 

A scream escaped her as she pitched forward, her arms still bound behind her back. “Rose!” Jack shouted, racing toward her in an attempt to catch her before she contacted the ground. He didn’t make it, though, and she hit the ground hard, her hip and injured shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. A cry of pain flew from her even as Harry lurched toward her.

Jumping between Saxon and Rose, Jack lunged at Harry, connecting squarely with his middle and bringing him down to the ground. Harry tried to fight back but was no match for Jack’s comparative strength. It took two solid punches to knock the man out, but it took all of Jack’s will power to stop at only two. The only thing stopping him were the worried voices issuing from behind him.

Quickly turning back to Rose, he found Sarah Jane and Donna both huddled beside her. Sarah was anxiously taking her pulse and Donna’s phone was pressed to her ear, probably calling for help. 

Rolling off of Harry, he stood and moved to join them, but caught movement from the direction of the TARDIS. If he wasn’t currently terrified for the brave woman who was lying on the floor at his feet, what he saw would have likely made him weep with joy. Pale and soaked in sweat, but looking decidedly better than he’d looked only minutes before, John stepped away from the TARDIS, his entire terrified focus on the unconscious woman on the ground. 

“ROSE!”


	16. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... I just couldn't leave you all there for a whole week. This chapter was just sitting there, waiting to be published anyway, so I thought... what the hell? It will definitely be another week before the next (and last) chapter, however, as I haven't even finished writing it yet, let alone editing it. 
> 
> Anyhow... without further ado...

### Running Out : Chapter 16 - Recovery

John sat in the TARDIS, his lethal and life saving machine, only now barely aware of where he was. The pounding ache from every joint and muscle… from every bone and organ… now consumed him. This was it. He was dying. And if the teleporter didn’t do it’s job… if his foggy calculations and instructions to Sarah had been off… he would soon find his soul hovering bodiless over his own lifeless corpse.

From outside the machine he thought he heard shouting, but even if the apocalypse was happening out there, he wouldn’t be able to lift even his eyelids to find out how to help Sarah Jane and his family. And Rose. 

Images of her lovely face and her golden hair shimmering against her shoulders in the sunlight floated before him. A deep longing filled him as he thought of her. He didn’t want to die now. Now that he knew there was a chance he could actually spend a lifetime with her, the idea of leaving that possibility behind pulled at him. He didn’t want to go.

Suddenly, the air around him began to compress and the telltale noise of the TARDIS filled his ears. This was it. Behind his closed lids he watched darting golden motes of energy pulse back and forth and moment by moment he felt his body being squeezed more tightly. The pressure seemed to be all around him and within him at the same time, making his lungs feel like they were closing in, being drained of what little oxygen they had stored. Panic welled in him with the complete absence of air and agony filled him as he felt his body… his skin, organs, bones and joints...contract. Every nerve he had fired a warning to his brain that overload was imminent. His tissues pulled in on themselves so tightly he was positive he was imploding. But just when he was sure he had reached the very end of his existence, the energy surrounding him began pulling away, leaving his body free to inhale blessed air and his organs to find their rightful place within him. Opening his eyes, he found the golden swirling lights hadn’t been only in his mind. They floated about in front and around him, circling him in a bath of soft healing energy. A sort of euphoria and lightness now enveloped him making him almost giddy. He was alive!

Taking stock of his body, he was desperately relieved to find his breath wasn’t laboured. His bones and joints felt a lot like he’d overdone a particularly grueling workout, but the overriding pain was gone. Reaching out a shaky hand, he touched inside of the TARDIS in wonder and heard himself whimper in relief. His creation… this blessed machine...had healed him. 

As the noise of his brilliant TARDIS finally died off and the revelation that he wasn’t merely visiting his body from the afterlife had worn off, he began to process voices from outside the box. A scream. A scream? Oh god… they were in the lab… Harry’s lab. It was all coming back… the situation he’d put his family and Sarah Jane in so that he might live. 

Standing quickly… too quickly, he realized as he had to grab at the wall to maintain his balance… he opened the door of the TARDIS and stepped out. The scene that greeted him was surreal. 

Jack was standing over Harry’s unconscious form and Sarah Jane and Donna were huddled over…

“ROSE!” he heard himself shout in disbelief. She was unconscious and… oh my God… was that blood?!

“Oh, my God! John!” Donna yelped, running to him and throwing her arms around him.

“Donna… what’s happened to Rose?” he said, hugging her quickly before breaking away to move to Rose’s side. 

“She’s been stabbed,” Donna said, kneeling beside him, her hand on his shoulder. 

Rose lay on her stomach, the back of her shirt soaked with blood and her breath shallow. Her eyes were closed. “Rose,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her brow. 

“I’ve called 999,” Donna assured him gently. “She’ll be alright, John.”

“Rose,” he repeated, his eyes misting. “What was she even _doing_ here?” Looking up he found his cousin looking at him, guilt written in his features.

“I’m sorry, Doc. She wanted to help… and we needed to keep Harry away from the lab. I’m so sorry,” he trailed off, his worried eyes dropping to Rose’s unconscious form. 

Anger warred with worry in him as he stroked her hair. She shouldn’t have been involved. She shouldn’t have even _known_ about any of this. “Fuck!” he cursed quietly, anxiety coiling in him. 

Reigning in his desire to lash out… to rail at his cousin for involving her in any of this, he leaned in to press his forehead to Rose’s and whispered tightly, “Please, Rose… please be okay. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you were hurt because of me. Please, just… just come back to me,” he begged. 

The sound of the TARDIS beginning it’s activation suddenly boomed through the room, and he, along with everyone else, looked up quickly to find Harry holding a cannister in his arms and pulling the door of the machine open. “Harry!” he shouted. “No!”

Realizing he’d been seen, he sneered at them all from across the room with what was unmistakably a look of triumph.

Jack was obviously about to bound over to stop him but John jumped up and held him back. “Don’t, Jack. If you’re too close and the TARDIS activates while the door is open it could kill you,” he warned.

Jack stilled beside him, his body still tense.

“Harry… don’t do this! It’s too dangerous,” John warned.

Harry scoffed. “You don’t think I’m THAT naive, do you, John? Do you honestly think I didn’t realize you’d try something like this? That’s why I had this refined arton canister hidden… for just such an occurrence. A ‘Plan B’, as it were. I was hoping to take my time and fully explore the time travel potential of my machine from _this_ moment in time, but I’m equally as happy to do so from fifty years in the future. Oh… and your reversal of the polarity won’t affect me, in case you’re counting on that. If the activation sequence goes on long enough before the process is triggered, the polarity will reverse back on its own. You see… I’ve done my own research, _‘Doctor’_ ,” he sneered. “Now, I must be off. I’ll be sure to visit your grave in the future,” he advised him before stepping into the box and closing the door behind him.

“He’s getting away,” Sarah Jane shouted over the quickly increasing din of the activated TARDIS. The whooshing grind of the machine filled the room and a sucking wind whipped around them as they stood watching helplessly as the box itself pulsed and faded and pulsed again.

“IT’S WORKING!” Donna yelled, squinting her eyes against the light and the wind. 

Resigned, he watched in morbid fascination as his TARDIS whirred and became translucent before his eyes. It would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t so tragic. 

“DOC!” John hollered, grabbing his arm. “Shouldn’t we do something?!”

John looked at his cousin’s anxious face and then turned his gaze back to the box that was slowly beginning to quiet and solidify. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do,” he said in an even tone.

The room stilled as papers fluttered to the ground in the wake of the dying storm. “John?” Donna’s voice said uncertainly. She was asking what to do next. 

Stepping forward, he approached the TARDIS. “Be careful, Doc,” Jack warned as he neared the doors.

But he didn’t need to be careful, he knew. There was nothing that could hurt him in there now. 

Opening the doors slowly, he cringed. It was empty, save for a scorched section of flooring in the centre of the machine. 

“What is it?” Donna asked, now coming closer. 

“He’s gone,” John shared, unable to tear his eyes from the burn mark. He really was gone. 

Jack joined him beside the doors and peered in. “Holy shit. What happened to him?” he asked in wonder.

“Burned up in the vortex, I expect,” John shared, unable to keep a bit of sadness from his voice. As much as he hated what Harry had done, he had never wanted it to come to this.

“What? Why?” Jack asked, still mesmerized by the circle of ash on the floor inside the box.

“He hadn’t factored in the fact that the TARDIS itself would also need to be surrounded by refined arton. It was something I’d thought of while I was in the hospital. The vortex is pure energy. With the refined arton surrounding him he was able to access its corridors through time. But the arton would have to surround both the occupant and the box itself, otherwise nothing would protect the traveller from the vortex energy while travelling through it. Harry managed to get himself moving through the vortex, but his body burned on direct contact with it. He’s dead,” John confirmed.

“Oh,” Jack said, obviously somewhat stunned by the information.

Outside they heard approaching sirens. “Rose,” he whispered, quickly ducking around Jack to return to Rose’s side. 

“I’ll go meet them,” Jack volunteered, dashing to the door and running out. 

Once again settled by Rose’s still, but thankfully breathing, form, he felt a gentle arm wrap around his shoulder. “I’m sorry Rose was hurt, John,” Sarah Jane’s voice said gently, “but I’m so bloody glad you’re okay,” she admitted, squeezing him. 

Bringing a hand up to squeeze hers, he nodded and gave her a grateful smile. “Thanks, Sarah. Thank-you for everything you’ve done.”

Patting him affectionately, she gave him a small smile. “No problem. Just don’t ever self experiment again, you hear?” she said warmly. 

He chuckled sadly. No… he definitely wouldn’t be doing that again. Rose was lying here because of what he’d done. And God willing, he’d be able to make it up to her each and every day from here on in. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Forgive me, my Rose. Please come back to me.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

Awareness slowly seeped into her as if someone was rolling back a warm, comfortable blanket from her mind, leaving her exposed to a cold, biting wind. Pricks of discomfort gradually became replaced by deep aches and she was sure she could feel her pulse echo painfully in her head. 

Sliding her eyes open, she found her vision filled with a white ceiling and she quickly became aware of a soft beep beating from beside her. She was in hospital. Why was she in hospital?

Turning her head against the starchy fabric of the pillow beneath her, she was met with a sight she’d not expected… one that made her nearly weep in relief. 

In the chair near the side of the bed, John sat slumped back, his head lolled and his eyes closed. His mouth was slightly agape and a soft snore issued from him. Despite feeling her eyes sting with tears, she found herself unable to even blink for fear he might disappear. John. He was alive.

Needing to see him better, she placed her hands on either side of her and pushed herself up to sitting. A stab of bitter pain inserted itself deep in her shoulder making her cry out despite herself. The tears threatening to spill now did so through tightly closed eyes.

“Rose!” John’s voice called, injecting itself into her sudden and cruel body awareness. 

She wanted to say his name… show him she knew he was there, but all that came out was a whimper. Making her eyes open, she found John now hovering over her, worry etched on his face. 

Despite the bitter pain radiating from deep inside the tissues of her shoulder, a feeling of pure thanks and wonder enveloped her. He was really here. “John... “

“Shhhh,” he insisted, helping her lean back again against the pillows behind her. The position definitely felt better than being upright, and she immediately relaxed into the mattress, thankful for the support. John’s warm hand caressed her hair back and the look he was gracing her with was filled with concern and adoration. “I can’t even tell you how scared I was,” he said in a near whisper. “You had us all terrified there for a while,” he informed her. 

She wanted to reach up and wipe the pain from his face… that sort of anxiety and worry didn’t belong on his handsome features… but she was concerned she’d pay for her efforts with renewed pain. “What… what happened?” she asked, not really sure she wanted to know. 

She was in hospital, she knew that much. She knew her shoulder hurt like hell. “I remember… I was out for dinner…” she said, pushing herself to recall details. Suddenly her eyes flew up to meet his. She had been on a date with Harry. Oh God. The date. His apartment… the lab.

“You were stabbed,” he said gently. “It was… I didn’t see it happen… I was in the TARDIS. Jack told me… he said you were trying to get away from Harry so Donna and Sarah could activate the machine. That’s when he… when Harry…” he choked, emotion clearly clogging his throat.

Unable to hold back now, Rose lifted the arm less affected by the stab wound and brought it up to cup his cheek. “It’s okay, John. I’m okay,” she assured him. 

Closing his eyes, as if to push back threatening tears, he shook his head. “No. You almost didn’t make it, Rose. You… you shouldn’t have been there. You shouldn’t have been part of this. Any of it,” he lamented. 

A huge part of her felt so badly for him… that he’d been through so much and felt so sure he’d needed to do it without her. Another part of her, though, was seriously irked. “Hey,” she said, purposely lifting his chin so he had to look at her. “I _wanted_ to be part of this. I’ve wanted to be part of your life since I met you. And I still would’ve wanted to be part of your life, even if you only had a bit of it left. But knowin’ that I could help… that there was a way I could help you get better… I had to. You would’ve done the same for me. I know it,” she said, completely sure in her assertion. She was no better or worse than he was. She just knew she had to do something to help. And as far as she was concerned, the cost didn’t matter.

“But…” he started, obviously about to berate himself in some way.

“No, John. I chose to help and I knew it might be risky. Jack told me as much. Now I don’t want to hear anymore about it,” she said with finality. John’s lips tightened into a straight line. He wasn’t alright with this, she could tell. It didn’t matter, though. How he felt now didn’t change anything. He was here...breathing and full of life... and that’s all that mattered to her. “I’m just so glad you’re alive,” she said softly. 

Then a terrible thought occurred to her. “John… you _are_ alright, aren’t you? I mean… you’re healthy now?” she asked, anxiety over the very idea he might not be 100% healed filling her voice.

Nodding, he gave her a small smile. “Yeah. I’m good. All better. You needn’t worry about me,” he assured her, taking her hands in his. “Hardy stock, us Smiths,” he smiled. 

Relief replaced anxiety as she studied his face. His cheeks had colour, his eyes were bright, and his hands… they were actually warm. He wasn’t just saying he was alright to placate her. The man sitting beside her was truly healthy. He was no longer counting the days and hours before his time was up. Looking up into his deep brown eyes, she found herself suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. “Good thing, too,” she gave him a half smile, once again caressing his face. “I was so scared for you… when I found out...“ she felt her eyes well up as the words left her mouth.

Swallowing emotion, he replied, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just… at first I just wanted to enjoy what time I had left without it interfering with the real happiness you brought me. You… you made me forget. At least while I was with you, I could focus on you. On how wonderful you made me feel. How fantastic you were. How brave. And then… well, then I got worse, and I couldn’t bear to tell you. I couldn’t look at you and have you look at me like a dying man. I couldn’t. I wanted to wait until I was better. Until I could offer more than uncertainty and maybe even a funeral banquet,” he explained, his face pleading for her to understand.

“Oh, John. I wish you’d’ve let me be there for you. I was sure you… well, I thought you had decided I wasn’t worthy of you or your family,” she said, shame playing through her on the admission. Seeing him about to protest, she raised her finger to his lips. “No… I know I was wrong. I know that now. And I feel like a prat now that I know what was really going on. I should’ve trusted you wouldn’t judge me that way. But still… I wish you’d have told me what you were going through. You were there for me when I was facing my biggest fears. I would’ve been honoured if you’d have let me be there to help you face yours,” she finished.

His eyes dropped from hers and he nodded his understanding before looking back at her. “I’m sorry, Rose. You’re right, of course. It wasn’t fair of me not to tell you. I knew that right from the beginning. So did Donna. That’s why she and I had a row that night at my place. She told me to tell you, and she was right. I should have,” he admitted. “I just couldn’t bear the thought that you might… you might turn away from me. You said you should’ve trusted me, but _I’m_ the one who should’ve trusted _you_.”

“Thank-you, John,” she smiled, her eyes moist. His words meant so much. 

“No, Rose. Thank- _you_. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be here. And I’m so grateful to be here,” he said, his own eyes shining. For a moment, he stared at her, his warm eyes studying her as if somehow... if he looked long enough… he could unlock some great mystery locked inside her. Familiar electricity charged the air between them, ignited by his gaze, and Rose lost all awareness of everything in the room but him. Then, leaning down slowly, he pressed a delicate kiss to her lips.

It was chaste and soft and perfect. It made a flock of winged creatures take flight within her. 

Pulling back, John leaned his forehead against hers while his hand smoothed her hair. Closing her eyes, she savoured the press of his skin against hers and the feel of his fingers trailing through her hair. She was in heaven. This must be heaven, she reasoned, because surely there was no way on earth she could ever feel this happy. 

Finally, sitting up, John beamed down at her with undisguised affection and she hoped her own smile shared even a quarter of the feelings she was currently brimming with. Brushing her thumb along the slight scruff on his jaw, she said, “Now… what do I have to do to get some ice cream around here?” 

Laughing, all tension now gone, he nodded, “Well, I suppose we’d better find out. I’m sure I can drum up some chocolate ice cream somewhere,” he grinned.

“Oh… I’m a bit done with chocolate now,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I think I’d like to try something new. Licorice and banana, maybe?”


	17. Living the Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks. The last chapter. I'm not 100% happy with the beginning of it, but if I keep fiddling it'll be next Christmas before I get this posted! The content will hopefully satisfy those of you who've been holding out for the reason this fic was rated 'M'... at least that was the aim! The end of the chapter is definitely a bit abusive of cliches… forgive me. Couldn’t help myself. After all the angst, I needed some fluffy closure (Seeeeee! I CAN do fluff…). 
> 
> Thanks to all of you for reading and commenting… I’m truly honoured you’ve decided to follow this fic!
> 
> Love to you all!

### Running Out : Chapter 17 - Living the Dream

“Can I get you anything? Water? Another pillow?” John fussed after settling Rose in bed after she’d readied herself for sleep. Her evening routine took her longer than it had before the injury, but she didn’t whinge about it too much. She was just happy to be able to get around her flat now without being exhausted just moving from one room to the other.

“Nah… I’m good, thanks,” Rose assured him, “Sorry I took so long in there,” indicating the loo. “Bit slower moving than I’d like to be at the mo,” she half smiled, relaxing her head into the pillow. 

“Please don’t apologize, Rose,” John insisted, pulling the blankets up a bit higher. “I don’t want you to worry about me. There’s plenty to keep me busy here when you’re not in need of my services,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah? Like what,” she teased, knowing she had nothing to really offer in her home other than the telly that might keep him occupied. 

“Like… uh…” he looked around the room, presumably for something that might pass for entertainment. “Well… I could always… dust? No. Knit! Yup… knit. Now there’s something I’ve always wanted to learn how to do. Seems to be the perfect opportunity now, doesn’t it?” he grinned goofily. 

Rose rolled her eyes. “Now _that_ I’d like to see. Doctor Daredevil with knitting needles,” she giggled.

“Oi! I’ll have you know that there are a fair number of physics professors I know who knit,” he sniffed. “Sarah Jane, for one. Then there’s… there’s…” he paused, thinking. “Okay, there’s only one. Still… nothing like starting a trend, yeah?”

Smiling widely, she scooped up his hand in hers. “I’m just so glad you’re here,” she admitted. “Thanks for taking care of me. Don’t know how I’d have survived one more night with my Mum playing carer.”

On her release from hospital she’d insisted she be taken to her flat despite her mother’s arguments that she go back to the Estate. Jackie was a very persuasive woman, but Rose could dig her heels in as deeply as any Prentice and after a heated discussion Rose won out. Jackie didn’t lose well, though, and had insisted on staying over at her place for the first couple of days to look after her. Honestly, Rose was thankful for the meals and spoiling, but Jackie’s constant attentions and unsolicited opinions about her life had become exhausting. At least her mother had revised her opinion of John, though, which Rose didn’t count as merely a small blessing. 

When Jackie found out that her only child was in hospital, John instantly became the devil incarnate for having allowed her baby to be put in harm’s way and nearly killed. From the moment Rose woke in the A&E she could practically taste her mother’s hostility toward John in the air. Mind you, it wasn’t like Jackie had been trying to hide it. Cutting and practically cruel comments were the order of the day when he was around despite Rose’s warning to her Mum to leave him alone. It was a couple of days in, while both Jackie and John thought she was sleeping in her hospital bed, that a heated discussion in the hall just outside her room brought it all to a head. 

_”My Rose nearly died because of you. How could you have been so bloody selfish? Getting her involved in something like this. She was perfectly fine before she met you! Now look at her! Lying there in pieces!”_ her Mum had ranted at him. 

She’d been about to shout out a plea for mercy in John’s defense when his own impassioned voice replied, _“Jackie… if I could take it back… all of it… I would. But I can’t. I’m sorry Rose was involved. I didn’t want her to be. If I’d have known…”_ his voice trailed off. _“Anyhow… I can’t go back in time and fix it or I would. You have to believe me… I would rather die than see harm come to her. She’s more important to me than you could ever know,”_ he admitted. _“And I swear, Jackie… I will never let anything hurt her again.”_

A small thrill had burst through her with his admission. Hearing him speak with such passion about his feelings for her… it actually made tears spring to her eyes. From the other side of the wall, however, stunned quiet met her ears. She could actually picture her mother’s face… jaw clamped shut with indignant emotion. She knew her Mum well and could practically feel her disappointment at having her rant cut off by such a heartfelt plea. She’d been hoping for a fight… someone to keep blaming for the injustice of what had happened, and he’d thrwarted it by just… being him. 

Finally her Mum’s lowered, emotion filled voice replied, _“Yeah, well… you’d better not. Rose is special. She’s young. And too bloody selfless… it drives me mad sometimes. Always givin’ until there’s nothin’ left of her to give. She almost gave her life for you. So you’d better see that she gets treated like the bloody saint she is, yeah? Cause trust me… if I hear differently, you’ll be answerin’ to me. She’s my baby. She’s all I’ve got left.”_ The tremble in her Mum’s voice caused her own ready tears to fall.

John’s humbled voice answered, _“You have my word.”_ After that her mother noticeably backed off and the animosity clouding the air lifted.

Once she’d been released from hospital John had come over to her flat often, spending hours at her bedside during which time he and her Mum were in close proximity. Despite that, though, the conversations between he and her Mum had become cordial and sometimes almost even pleasant. Rose knew better than to take such a gift for granted, and she made sure to thank her Mum for her positive treatment of John when they were once again alone. It was her open appreciation for her Mum’s efforts that finally made Jackie’s leftover barriers come down and reluctantly she even admitted she actually _liked_ John, even if he _was_ a bit skinny for her taste. 

Now, though, with her Mum finally sent home with the reassurance that John was perfectly capable of taking care of her for a while on his own, she knew she couldn’t avoid the topic she’d been terrified to bring up with the wonderful man beside her. Nervously she clasped John’s warm hand in hers and took a steadying breath. “John… there’s something I need to tell you,” she broached. 

“Alright,” he said, edging himself further onto the bed as his brows knit with concern… probably because she looked as frightened as she felt about sharing this with him. 

“Something that happened that night… with Harry,” she started, her breath tight in her chest. 

Realization dawned on his face. “No, Rose… it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” John interjected.

“No, I do. There’s something I haven’t told you about that night when I was out with him… trying to keep him away from his lab,” she insisted.

“Rose… I know what happened,” he admitted, his expression reflecting his inner turmoil around the subject. “They… the police told me about the video.”

Something inside her broke on hearing the words spoken out loud. The video. A feeling falling between embarrassment and fear crept through her. There it was. Out in the open. He knew what had happened. Memories of Harry looming above her, his rough hands touching her… hurting her… 

“Hey… it’s okay. It’s okay now,” John’s soft voice played in her ear as he bent down to kiss her cheek. “He’s gone, Rose. And I’ll never let anyone ever hurt you like that again,” he vowed.

“It was my fault, John. I should’ve listened to Jack. He warned me, but… I just… I thought I could handle it. And then…” she trailed off, emotion tight in her throat.

“Oi… that’s enough of that,” John insisted, pulling back, giving her a stern look. “Harry Saxon was an animal, Rose. It doesn’t matter what you’d have done… he’d planned to hurt you one way or the other. I’m sure he’d decided on that very course of action the moment he realized what you meant to me. I’m just so sorry you went through any of it… that you felt you had to put yourself in that situation for me,” he shook his head.

“Oi… that’s enough of that,” she echoed him, pulling a small smile from him in response. “I thought we went over this. I didn’t just _want_ to help you… I needed to,” she shared, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. “John you… you’ve become so important to me. From the first time I met you… all ‘knight in shining armour’ on the roller coaster… something changed in me. And it wasn’t because I’d actually survived that stupid ride. It was because you hardly knew me, but you believed in me. A complete stranger. You were so supportive and kind… and then I found out you were _so_ far out of my league…”

John seemed about to interject, but she silenced him with a gentle finger to his lips. “No… let me finish,” she insisted. “You were a doctor… educated, posh… I’m just a shop girl from the Estate with no education and no money. Who would I be to someone like you? But then… when you saw me again and asked me out… I actually had to start facing my biggest fear. That you might actually think I was worthy of you. That I might have to be judged by who I am instead of where I came from. And that scared me. I mean… properly scared me.”

“Oh, Rose…”

“But here you are,” she smiled, aware that her eyes were probably sparkling with the tears she was working at holding back. “You want to be with me… and I can’t tell you how that makes me feel,” she admitted, hearing her voice crack despite her efforts.

“Rose… you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. If you only knew how bloody nervous I was at first… getting up the nerve to ask you out on a proper date. You had such thirst for life… such a brave heart. I envied that. And selfishly, I knew I needed it… needed _you_... in my life, even though I had so little of it left to give.”

Sitting up, paying no heed to her aching back, she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could, pushing her face into his neck to breathe him in. Once again, she revelled in the warmth of him… the blessing that was his renewed health… the promise of continued life. “Rose… I love you,” she heard him whisper softly in her ear as he held her even tighter.

Pulling back, she studied his eyes, alight with emotion. The tears she’d been working to hold back now began to fall. “I love you, too,” she shared, a soul deep smile finding her lips.

John’s gaze found her mouth and he swooped in to plant a searing kiss on her lips. It was the first such heated kiss they’d shared, and it made every single nerve ending Rose had burn in hopeful anticipation. He seemed about to pull back, which was truly an unacceptable idea in her mind. She’d waited so long for this… for more with him. They’d not had a moment to themselves since this all happened and now… now there was time to make up for. 

Threading her fingers through his hair, she redoubled her efforts, pulling him even closer to her, if that was even possible. She felt his body tense slightly before yielding to her… his hands playing up her back as she slipped her tongue past his lips to stroke his own. 

A delicious ache played in her belly, dipping down into her centre. Every move of his hand, his tongue, his body, created spikes of want within her. Then, without warning, he pulled back, releasing her mouth. “Rose… we… we shouldn’t,” he breathed heavily.

“No… we really should,” she insisted, moving to press kisses to the smoothly shaven skin of his jaw then down to nip and lave the warmth of his neck. A heated moan escaped him, completely contradicting the words that he’d just uttered.

“But you’re… you’re still poorly. You’ve… ohhhhh,” he groaned as she let her hands slide lower to ghost over his obvious argument against their continued abstinence. 

“John… I want this. And I promise I’m well enough, yeah? Now please… I need you,” she entreated, punctuating her last sentence by pressing her hand more firmly against his trouser covered erection.

The effect was mesmerizing… his eyes closed tightly and a gasp escaped him before he breathed her name. It was when he opened his eyes again that she read the resignation in them. “I need you too,” he admitted, surging forward to capture her lips again.

There was no stopping their momentum this time and it was mere moments before both of their hands were clawing at clothing. His jumper landed squarely on top of her chemise on the floor beside his trousers and her knickers. He didn’t have enough time to pull his pants off before she pulled him down on top of her, his near-naked lean body hot against hers. His skin felt glorious as he lay atop of her… only a thin layer of fabric between her naked centre and his insistent want of her. His own hands trailed over her skin, down her side to cup her bottom as he pushed himself against her. 

Breaking their kiss, he turned his attention to her neck and trailed his lips down over her clavicle as one hand reverently cupped her breast. Hissing a breath in, she actively ignored the knawing pain in her back and arched her spine to push herself more insistently against his lips. It was when the wet heat of his mouth finally encircled her other breast that all thought of her aching shoulder blade flew from her mind. Hot sparks of electric need emanating from where his mouth met her body were now all she could concentrate on. She needed him. All of him. 

“Want you,” she heard herself breathe as he continued his path downward. “Please, John,” she entreated, trying to pull him up to settle between her thighs. 

Looking up at her from around the area of her navel, he flashed her a sultry smile. “And you’ll get me, Rose Tyler. I promise you that. First though...”

And with that trailing statement, he moved in to press the flat of his tongue against her folds and trailed it up in a languorous lick.

Her body responded instantly with a fresh flood of moisture and a coiling jolt of want. Before she could even bring her mind to bear, another swipe of his tongue played along her sensitive skin making her buck up against his mouth. For a moment she felt badly for reacting so strongly, but his response to her sensitivity was a moan so loud it vibrated against her, making her once again lift her hips from the bed. 

She’d never experienced such attention before from anyone. Mickey had never offered and Jimmy… well, once he’d gotten off that was pretty much it. This, though… she’d never imagined the feeling would be so exquisite. She was helpless to her body’s need to seek out more… to press against his giving mouth. It was only when his hands came up to steady her movement that she managed to still herself slightly, though it took all her willpower to do so as he worked his tongue into the spot where he must’ve known she wanted it most. 

The alternating push and flickering pressure against her sensile nerve endings further concentrated the inward spiral of pleasure, making her grasp and claw the sheets beneath her as she keened his name. A deep hum of arousal rang against her, making her edge that much closer. “Gonna come,” she gasped, unsure whom she was warning. Her words were like fire to the man engulfing her, though, and his hands gripped her hips with renewed force as his tongue continued it’s punishing movement against her nexus. It was the combination of the the possessive grip, his pleasured moans, and the sight of his tousled hair and closed eyes between her legs that finally sent her over, tumbling into oblivion as her hands fisted in his hair, encouraging him to continue his attention until she was finally complete. 

Gently guiding his head away from her centre when the sensation edged on painful, she gasped for breath. Encouraging him up to capture his lips with her own, she was met with skin that was still wet with her own juices and she couldn’t help but be a bit amazed to find it was a bizarre sort of turn on to kiss the mouth that had just devoured her. 

His hands roamed over her as he blanketed her with his body, his fabric clad erection pressing insistently against her thigh. Reaching between them, she tugged at the intervening cloth, inching it downward and over his bottom with one hand as the other gently rescued his length from it’s fabric cage. John hissed a breath in, making her ache once again. To have such an effect on a man… to be the cause of such desire was heady. 

Spreading her legs, she made room for him and he ran his hand down to trace his fingers along her wetness. Her skin was brilliantly sensitive and his touch once again ignited a longing so deep inside her she gasped. 

Reaching between them, she found his length already close to her entrance. Wrapping her hand around him, she guided the tip of him so it nestled just between her folds. His eyes slammed shut as his head met her entrance and a moan flew from his lips. “I want you inside me,” she breathed, pulling her legs up to wrap around his arse. With an upward shift of her hips and an insistent press of her heels, he entered her… stretching and filling her so that she felt she’d never felt so complete in her life. The heated sounds that issued from him as they found a steady rhythm were noises she worked to commit to memory. This was nervana, as far as she was concerned.

With all the foreplay, it wasn’t long before John’s movements became more frantic. “Can’t… I can’t…” he warned.

“Then don’t. Come for me, John,” she instructed between aroused grunts and heavy breaths.

A feral noise escaped him as he came inside her, his eyes flying open with the exquisite sensation of release. Squeezing her inner muscles purposefully, she milked the last shudder from him as his body began to come down from its high. 

Finally, slumping down over her, he ran his hands along both sides of her face and kissed her tenderly as he pulled out. Rolling off, he flopped onto his back beside her and pulled her into his side. Unable to stifle a happy sigh, Rose snuggled into him. 

A contented hum rumbled in his chest by way of a reply, and he ran his hand along her arm as she cuddled close. They lay there for quite a while, just holding each other in completed silence, before John finally spoke. 

“To think it was only a week ago I thought I’d never be able to have this with you. That I’d probably die never having even properly kissed you,” he said, shaking his head. “And now...”

“Now here we are,” she smiled, running her finger along his jaw, “...and it’s just the beginning.”

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

"Where are we going?” Rose asked for the fiftieth time.

“Again with the questions, Rose Tyler,” he tsked. “You need to trust me. Have I ever led you astray?” he teased with what she could imagine was a goofy grin.

“Listen, _Doctor_ ,” she drawled, “I think not telling me you were bloody _dying_ could be counted as leading me astray,” she advised him.

“Oh, now you’re going to throw that in my face?!” he said, clearly being cheeky. Prat. “All you need to know is that you’re going to like it,” he shared, sounding quite pleased with himself. “Now don’t peek.”

“I’m not!” she defended with an emphatic gesture. “How could I peek? You tied this blindfold on so tight I think my brain is losing circulation,” she said playfully. 

“Yes, well… I couldn’t have you find out your surprise before it’s time, now could I?” he defended.

“Oh, alright,” she teasingly grumped, “but this better be good,” she warned. 

She could practically _hear_ him smiling. Well… that’s okay. He deserved it. Happiness, that is. They both did.

As she sat blindfolded in his car, she found herself thinking how odd it was that it was only six weeks ago that she’d been lying in a hospital bed fighting for her life. It seemed like a lifetime had passed. 

She and John had been inseparable for the last month… since her mother agreed to let him care for her at home on his own. Since their first time. Once again she found herself wondering how she could ever have considered just settling for an ‘okay’ life. Then again, before she met John, she honestly wasn’t sure there was more out there for her. Now she knew better. He taught her she deserved more than just ‘okay’. She deserved all that life could bring her and she intended to live it with that in mind. Hopefully with John beside her. 

Reaching over, she felt for his hand and grasped it. He had just treated her to a fantastic seafood dinner and after a wonderful meal full of flirty smiles and gentle hand caresses that made her ache in all the right places, she’d been surprised to find out he had planned even more for the evening. The blindfold had been applied as soon as they’d gotten the car and now, with his hand holding hers whenever he wasn’t shifting gears, she could only focus on his touch and his voice… two things of brilliance, in her opinion.

The car finally pulled up somewhere and she suddenly felt his hands come up to clasp the blindfold. “We’re here,” he informed her. 

Biting her lip, she waited for the big unveiling. The cloth was carefully removed from her eyes and she blinked a few times to clear her vision before looking outside the window. They were pulled over along a busy street somewhere downtown and outside the window people milled about, waiting, it seemed. 

“Look up,” she heard John instruct softly.

Doing as she was told, she heard herself gasp. 

“We all deserve to live our dreams, Rose,” he said, his voice filled with adoration.

She felt her eyes fill as the lights of the Queen’s Theatre marquee splayed across her vision. A poster encased in glass announced what was played. Les Miserables. “Oh my god…” she intoned, her voice tight with emotion.

“Rose?” John asked, sounding concerned.

Turning quickly, she lunged for him. “Oh, God, John… thank-you! Thank-you so much!” she expounded before loosening her grip on him. “Are we really going to see it? Tonight?” she said, excitement now pulsing through her. 

He laughed, his eyes crinkling adorably. “Yup!” he said, obviously pleased with her response to his surprise. “Best seats in the house, too,” he shared. 

“Oh, John… thank-you,” she said, her tone now reflecting her honest, heart-felt gratitude, “but you really shouldn’t have. It probably cost more than my flat!” She was already happier than she could ever have imagined being. And now… this.

A softness found his eyes then. “I wanted to. I want to make every dream you have come true, Rose,” he said, reaching up to stroke the side of her face. “And I was hoping that…” he swallowed nervously, “...that you would consider making mine come true as well.”

Reaching down into his pocket, he pulled out a small blue velvet box. Rose’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Rose Tyler,” he said formally, opening the little case to reveal a deep blue stone surrounded by sparkling diamonds set in a white gold band, “I know we haven’t been together… well, _properly_ together, at least… for long, but, well… I feel like you were always meant to be in my life. And now that I have one I could actually share… I want nothing more than to be able to share it with you. Rose… will you be my wife?”

A ball of emotion clogged her throat and left her mouth gaping. “You… you…” she trailed off, tears springing to her eyes as she gazed at the ring in his hands. Lifting her eyes to meet his, she studied him for a moment. Was this really happening? 

The gorgeous smile adorning his handsome face actually began to fade. “Rose?” 

Realizing he was taking her stunned silence as a negative answer, she immediately gasped, “Oh, my god… yes. John… yes, I’ll be your wife.”

Joy lit his eyes making them sparkle as a massive grin returned to transform his features. Gently removing the stunning piece of jewelry from it’s home, he slid it on her finger. “Thank-you,” he said with something akin to reverence. 

Reaching out, she tugged him toward her, enveloping him in a tight hug before pulling back to snog him soundly. He reciprocated with gusto, wrapping his arms around her possessively as they both poured their joy into the kiss. It wasn’t long before hands began roaming and the car windows began to cloud over with their combined heavy breathing. Finally, Rose reluctantly drew back, retreating from his lips only when her lungs began to call for air. Panting slightly, John breathed, “We… we should, uh… go in.” He looked completely adorable… all flushed and slightly rumpled from their enthusiastic snog.

Knowing she must look the same, she smoothed her hair and insisted her body calm down a bit. “Um… yeah,” she acknowledged, almost wishing they were at her place instead of about to enter a packed theatre. 

Movement outside the car window distracted her momentarily from her lustful thoughts. People were going inside. 

“Come on, Wife-to-be,” John’s enthusiastic voice chimed as he noticed the crowd moving as well. “We’ve got another dream to fulfill.”

She laughed and a tongue touched grin found her lips. “Well then, I suppose we should get moving, shouldn’t we?” she said happily. excitement again filling her with the realization that not only was she going to see a live musical… but that she was going to be seeing it with her fiancé.

“Yup!” he said enthusiastically, throwing open his door to jump out. Rounding the car, he flung hers open with gusto. “Allons-y, Rose Tyler!” he insisted, thrusting his hand out to waggle his fingers at her invitingly.

Laughing, she took his hand, letting him help her from the car. The theatre front loomed large above her and she was suddenly struck by the gravity of what was happening. As far as the world was concerned, this wasn’t something earth shattering. Humans hadn’t just travelled to other galaxies. The cure for cancer hadn’t just been discovered. To the rest of humankind, today was just another day. Rose knew better, though. Not only was she going to see a live musical… she was going to be seeing it with her _fiancé_. This was everything. The end of a life without dreams and the beginning of something new. Something much, much better.


End file.
